


Songstress - A Black Eagle Rises

by CrystalMoonlightI



Series: Songstress - A Tale of Three Houses [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: A Softer Side to Edelgard, Betrayal, Brigid (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Childhood Friends, Church of Seiros (Fire Emblem), Conspiracy, Distrust, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, First Time, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Love Confessions, Love Triangles, Minor Dorothea Arnault/Edelgard von Hresvelg, POV First Person, Religious Conflict, Vulnerability, Western Church
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:34:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 34,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26094202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystalMoonlightI/pseuds/CrystalMoonlightI
Summary: My name is Rolan. I was nobody important - just a common-born lad from the Leicester Alliance. That all changed when I fell in love with Dorothea and swore my sword to the Black Eagle house. However, things aren't as simple as I once believed them to be. Assailed on all sides by lies and uncertainty, I have to stand for what is right. Even if doing so puts me on a different path from my beloved childhood friend, Hilda.So many questions are swirling around my head; too many.Is Edelgard trustworthy? Is it safe to believe in the teachings of Seiros anymore? Was I right to choose Dorothea?Whatever the case, my life is set to change drastically.(The Black Eagle route of the Songstress story. Expect fluff, violence, and plenty of twists and turns!)
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Original Character(s), Edelgard von Hresvelg/Original Character(s), Hilda Valentine Goneril/Original Character(s), Petra Macneary/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Songstress - A Tale of Three Houses [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1720060
Kudos: 10





	1. Test

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is! The start of the Black Eagle storyline! If you're new to this story then be sure to go back and read the previous installment first. You'll need an understanding of what's happened to far in order to really appreciate things. Let's get started, shall we? It's story time! Dorothea is going to take the spotlight for a little while. Bet you're happy about that.

Sunset. Father steps out of the gates of Garreg Mach. I can't thank him enough for the help he's given me. I suppose it's true what they say. This is what family is all about; they always help you in a bind. Well, my folks are dependable at the very least. I can't (and nor would I want to) complain. My lot in life is my largest trouble, not my family themselves.

"You take care 'a yeself, kid. And bloody well write home!"

Pop cracks a grin before walking off down the pathway, escorted by a Knight of Seiros for protection. I should thank Lady Rhea for extending the churches' hospitality with very little notice. Few people are so selfless these days. That said, I'd better stick around here for a few minutes until I know the old goat's safely on his way. It's a long road back to Goneril from the monastery.

"I will, Pop! See you soon!" I wave him off. "And thank you," I continue at a whisper.

Over the passing minutes father becomes naught but a speck in the distance. I turn my back to Garreg Mach's township and breathe a big sigh. Well, talk about relief. I'd say I survived this unexpected visit fairly well. I'm no worse for the ware. I didn't end up with a boot up my arse, either. A success.

My only hope is that Pop lets me know he's visiting next time.

Now comes my next task. I have to finish preparing for tomorrow's march to Zanado. Going to battle is stressful for some. Me? I'm feeling excited. When I'm in a combat situation I'm useful. I'm proving my worth. A man can't ask for anything more. After all, you're only so good to people as your abilities.

"Alright, Rolan." Ready to progress, I return inside the monastery walls. "Let's do this."

First things first? My garrison for the battle ahead. A band of Goneril Sellswords will do nicely. Given my family's ties I should have no problems commanding them. We Goneril-born folks are fairly tight-knit when push comes to shove. Duke Holst treats us well enough when he's not focused on keeping the Almyrans at bay.

As for my weapon? I'll stick with the old faithful. There's nothing more reliable than a well-crafted steel shortsword. It's more durable than a katana blade from the eastern islands, and it's way easier to keep in the hands than one of those fancy silver weapons a lot of the nobles use. Lorenz is especially fond of them. They're powerful of course, but you need a balance between power and grip.

"All done..."

With my equipment prepared I'm free to stop by the training grounds for a few hours. It's important I stay on top form for the day ahead. Can't afford to stumble against bands of bloodthirsty marauders after all. Bandits might not be the most organized louts, but they make up for it twofold with savagery. Word round town is they sometimes drag away survivors of their raids kicking and screaming. Women especially.

Those sorts make me feel sick to the stomach. I've been troubled of late with matters of the heart, I'll admit it. But no scumbag should ever lay a hand upon a woman. Commoner or noble. Rich or poor. A denizen of Brigid or a priestess of the snowy north.

My hands quake with rage just thinking about stuff like this. I'd better get to my sword practice and vent properly. Upon returning to my dorm room to collect my things I notice a scrap of paper folded tucked neatly into the gap beneath my door. Unfolding it reveals an invitation I was far from expecting at this time in the evening. The sun will be down in a matter of minutes.

_Hello, Rolan. I hope today finds you well. Would you be so kind as to meet me at the Training Grounds just before sundown? I'd like to talk with you about something important. Do take care and enjoy the rest of your day. Much love, always - Dorothea x x x._

A note I cannot refuse. I was heading in that direction anyway.

* * *

I'm met with quite the surprise when I arrive at the training grounds. It's just about empty, save a handful of Black Eagle students. Dorothea is chatting away with Lady Edelgard, and Miss Petra is busy practicing sword form.

It doesn't take Dorothea long to notice my arrival. She rushes over with Edelgard in tow.

I bow to the both of them, as politely and respectfully as I can be. "Evening, ladies. How are you both?"

Edelgard greets me with curiosity, "Hmm..." Her lips rise. She smiles welcomingly, "You are Rolan, correct? Dorothea told me we could expect you here before the day's end, so I waited. It's good to finally speak with you in person."

"Hold on. You've been waiting here... _for me?_ "

"That's right," Dorothea chimes in cheerfully. "Edel here's drafted up a test for you. Isn't that right?"

"Correct," the future empress looks over her shoulder. "Petra, could you please come here?"

"But of course. I will be coming over quickly," answers Brigid's princess.

"A test?" I ask. I hadn't heard anything about this beforehand from Dorothea. "What kind of test? And now? It's very sudden."

"Indeed," nods Edelgard, flicking strands of white hair away from her eyes. "I've decided to approve your scholarship for the Adrestian Military, but on one condition. I want to see how capable you are first-hand... without preparation."

Petra offers me a training sword. Her lips rise into a fiery smile. "We are to be sparring together. We will fight. And if the victory is yours... you will be join- be joining the Black Eagle House without delay. I feel much of the happiness to face you again in the combat, Rolan," she continues with fizz and vigor. "Our exchange of swords during the mock battle was of much enjoyment to me..."

A rematch... with Petra? Right now? Okay, Rolan. Keep it together. This your one chance to join the Black Eagle House. If you get this right; you're in. All of your worries are gone. You'll be a student here; you'll be beside Dorothea.

I can't screw this up.

"Alright." I accept the sword. Petra leads me to the arena at the room's centre. "I'll do it."

The two of us take up position. Dorothea stands on the side-lines with a hopeful glimmer in her eyes. Her hands are held over her heart. Hold on... She's praying. She's praying for me. "You can do this," she silently mouths my way. "I believe in you..."

Edelgard stands between us at the middle of the combat area. She eyes Petra, and quickly snaps her focus back to me. "Twenty passes of the blade. No more and no less. The test ends when one of you falls to the ground. Are you both ready?"

Petra grips her weapon tightly. The corners of her mouth lift into a cool and controlled smirk. "I am prepared. I will use none of the restraining in this bout."

Okay Rolan. Breathe. One foot ahead of the other. Remember your stance. "Ready," I reply. "Let's go."

"Very good." Edelgard steps away, taking her place at the side of Dorothea. "Begin."

Petra screams a warrior's scream and lunges. Her first swing of the sword is fearsome and calculated. Wood collides with wood, sending my feet back several inches through the sandy underfoot. Brigid's future leader is smaller than me. But it does nothing to detract from her power. I've gotta be careful here. Real careful. Another strike like that and I'll be on my backside.

"You will not take this victory home with the footwork so clumsy," insists Petra with a vicious snarl.

It takes almighty effort to sidestep. She gets quicker with every strike. Her focus is to be admired. There's gotta be something I can do to level the field. Are all women of Brigid so darn skilled? From what age do they first learn to fight?

Think Rolan. Think.

A memory of our previous battle rushes back. I jump out of Petra's reach with a second to spare.

I've got it. The arc of her sword swings; they're too wide. All I've gotta do is slip to Petra's left-hand side after an attack. It's risky, but my best option. Hopefully I can knock her off balance and send her to the floor. Either way, I can't stay on the back foot for much longer.

I wait for Petra's next strike. As expected, she brings one foot ahead of the other and swings her blade outward in a wide slice.

"Got you."

Moving to her side proves easy. But the next thing I know, my feet tangle with Petra's. She wobbles unsteadily and takes a tumble, grabbing and taking me with her on the way down. My back slams against the ground. The edges of my vision fogs. Atop of me is Petra; she's red-faced and panting for breaths. Tiny beads of sweat trickle down her forehead. I'm half-expecting an angry response.

Far from it. She's smiling.

"These battles we share I enjoy with gladness. I should hope for the testing again soon."

Petra is quick to climb off and pull me upright. We're both given a round of applause.

"I am pleased, for the most part," says Edelgard. "Now... about your scholarship, Rolan..." She holds a hand out for me to shake. "I think you will be a fine addition to our class, providing you and Petra continue sparring to improve your footwork."

I shake Lady Edelgard's hand and bow my head respectfully. "My thanks. It's an honor. Truly it is."

"The honor is mine. I am always looking for talented individuals to strengthen Adrestia. Welcome Rolan. You are officially a Black Eagle."

Barely a moment passes before Dorothea sweeps me into her arms. "I knew you could do it," she laughs warmly. "I just knew it. This is fantastic! Now you don't have to leave. We can stay together like this..." The songstress drapes her arms over my shoulders and hugs me closely. "This is lovely. I've never been happier..."

There's a tear in her eye. I wipe it away. Dorothea's beautiful when she shows her feelings at their fullest. So beautiful I could kiss her.

Edelgard clears her throat, "Now now, you two." She snaps us out of the moment. "In love you may be, but need I remind you both that you are still both representatives of Adrestia. You especially, Dorothea. Behave well, please." She pats me on the shoulder before heading for the door with Petra. "I'll be speaking with Professor Byleth in regards to your transfer tomorrow. It may be best to bid farewell to your classmates before joining us. Again, I look forward to having you serve, Rolan."

Petra bows, "I am having much enjoyment knowing you will be a member of my house. We must do the sparring again soon."

"Sounds fine by me," I answer. "I'll look forward to it."

Brigid's princess and Adrestia's future empress depart shortly thereafter. Dorothea and I have time alone at last.

"We did it," Dorothea's eyes well with blissful tears. She pulls me into a heartfelt cuddle. "I can hardly believe it. I was worried I'd lose you for a time, Rolan." She sighs with relief, resting her head of brunette curls against my shoulder. "Now nothing will tear us apart."

I've never felt so relieved. For weeks I feared that my dream would come to an end. Finally, I can rest easy in knowing my place here is secure. I'll be able to see the world at long last; see Enbarr up close. They say it's a mighty city that never sleeps. A fortress with winding streets; cheerful taverns, and a grand opera house. Well, books would have you believe as such. I wonder if I'll enjoy the fast-paced life of a capital.

And that's when I'm struck by a realization.

"If I'm moving to Embarr... where am I going to live?"

All of my family call the Alliance home. There's nobody in Adrestia I can turn to for lodging.

I run my fingers through Dorothea's locks and breathe the lavender scent of her shampoo. She gazes into me with love and compassion the likes of which I've never seen before. She's appears so calm; so content. "A silly question, don't you think?" The songstress chuckles with warmth. "You can stay at my house. I wouldn't have it any other way."

I feel hot and bothered by the suggestion. LLiving together with Dorothea? I've never shared my home with a girl I've courted before. There's heat to her gaze; a sense of longing. It's different to the nervous expression of a girl held by youthful infatuation.

"You have a place of your own? Are you sure it's okay?"

"Yes. Of course..." Dorothea replies, holding her palms to my face. Her cheeks are flushed a tender shade of pink. "I have a tiny room overlooking the Enbarr River. It's just big enough for two. I can't wait to show it to you. It's small and cosy."

I'm not talking to a giggling village lass who's looking for harmless fun. Nor am I trading flirtatious words with an in keep's daughter. This is different. Very different. The truth shines through clearly. Dorothea wants a future together - with me.

And I think I'm ready for it.

We share a kiss away from those who would whisper. I revel in the sweetness of Dorothea's lips. Being with her like this is intoxicating. I know now just how dearly I treasure her. I'd fight the world if it would keep her safe from harm. Whatever happens now, I know that she's the one for me. While I care for Hilda, my heart years for the songstress of the Black Eagles in an entirely different way.

I'm short of breath when Dorothea separates her lips from mine. If she keeps this up much longer I might lose control.

"Rolan..." She whispers in my ear. " _Will you accompany me to my room_?"

I shiver against Dorothea's words. I'm eager and nervous in equal measure. My heart pounds intensely.

"Don't be nervous," says Dorothea softly, taking note of my expression. She gives me another peck upon the lips. "I'd never ask a gentleman for anything he's not ready for. I'm not that kind of girl..."

"It's not that," I answer honestly. "I worry I might take leave of my senses if we continue. I find it hard to resist you, Dorothea."

Her lips curve into a smirk as I confess. "Oh really?" Again she kisses me, this time upon the nape of my neck. She trails downward to my collarbone, nipping at my skin. I shudder within her embrace, a wilful prisoner to her advances. "I'm happy to hear it, Rolan..." She continues with seductive charm. "I'd want nothing less from the man I wish to spend my future with."

Again Dorothea nips at my neck; this time harder. The edges of my vision haze against her passionate attack. I can't hold back any longer. Rasping for breath, I bring the hand I'm holding against her back lower and lower, resting it against her thigh.

"Let's go," I speak in blissful surrender. "...To your room."

My mind is made up. I'm a Black Eagle. And I want to spend this night beside the woman I truly love.

Hand in hand, we depart the training grounds.

I care not who sees us together from this day onward.

I'm the luckiest man in Fodlan to have such a loving and supportive partner in my life. As long as were together, I'll achieve my dreams.

I just know it.

**To be continued...**


	2. Beauty

My time as a Black Eagle begins tonight. Come tomorrow I'll transfer classes. But now? I'll enjoy myself. I've earned it after the scuffle with Petra. Brigid's princess is no pushover. It'll be fun sparring with her again. I respect her more everytime we fight. Who knows? Maybe if I spend time getting to know her I might be able to visit Brigid someday. Or perhaps not. What am I saying? Get ahold of yourself, Rolan. Don't be foolish.

Just because you've passed one test it doesn't mean you're the best swordsman in the world; get ahold of yourself. Focus on what's important.

My beloved songstress is waiting for me to escort her across the monastery.

She's lovely in so many ways. But it's not her beauty that draws me closer. It's who she is inside that matters. She's both compassionate and considerate, but also strong-willed when it comes to her beliefs. I don't think she cares that we were born in two very different places and lived equally unique lives.

So long as we're together like this? She's beyond happy.

Together we leave the training grounds, her hand in mine. The sun is low in the sky; the last rays of daylight are almost gone. At long last the sight of a sunset has regained its soothing charm for me. It's lovely, especially when I'm able to share it with somebody who cherishes me.

I give Dorothea's fingers a gentle squeeze. She returns my gesture with a warm smile.

"I love you," she whispers in my ear. "I don't say it enough, I know. I mean it though. Truly I do."

For the first time in a while I'm not distracted. Nor am I fearful for the future. I can look ahead with prideful dedication.

"I love you too, Dorothea."

Our walk back to the dorms is thankfully a short one. It's helpful that the commoner dorms are so close to the training grounds. It's always made them easier to reach in a hurry. Me and Dorothea pass a handful of fellow students on our walk. A few start gossiping at the sight of us holding hands.

One of the girls is a Golden Deer; a first year just like me. Melonie I believe her name was. I'd remember those freckles and her button nose anywhere. She's quite the gossip. I see her whispering from here.

"Say Anna," I overhear. She's not being subtle either. "I hear Rolan's courting Hilda... Isn't that Dorothea from the Black Eagles?"

Oh well. She can spread rumours as much as she pleases. I couldn't care less.

The painful task of leaving the Gold Deer House waits ahead of me, and I'm prepared for it. I've made the right choice and I know it. There's no way I could've turned my back on Dorothea, even if it means I'll have to bid farewell to Hilda.

A twinge grips my chest; I take a short breath to steady my thoughts.

"And here we are," Dorothea chimes. We stand outside of her dorm room. The plaque beside the doorframe gives it away. She waits for the last few stray students to pass before taking the key out of her jacket pocket. "Would you like to join me for a while?"

My heart skips a beat. It's hard to ignore the amorous tinge to her offer. Her cheeks are flushed a gentle shade of pink.

"Are you sure it's okay?"

"Of course it is, Rolan... _I want to show you my room._ "

There's a certain assertiveness to Dorothea at times. It's subtle, though it gets easier to notice the longer you spend in her company. She wouldn't force me to join her, but I think she'd be a bit upset if I refused her offer. Her eyes are quivering. It's as though she's pleading with me. And what sort of gentleman refuses a lady's offer? Pop would sure think I'm crazy for turning her down.

"I'd love to."

Bringing the door open, Dorothea invites me inside. "After you."

One lit candle later and I can see all there is to see.

The songstresses' room is far from what I expected. I imagined vibrant colors and grandiose items of furniture. She was an opera diva, after all. But no. One thing in particular stands out as remarkable. In the corner of the room is a mannequin which sports an absolutely gorgeous white corset-style dress with frills. The fabric appears divine. The longer I look at it the more I'm drawn to it. I can't even imagine how much time and effort went into making a piece like this one. Even my mother would blush at such fine craftsmanship, and she's one of the most renowned dressmakers in Goneril.

Dorothea slides the door's deadbolt into place and joins me. Again she links her fingers with mine. "It's my opera dress. I used to wear it every night when I sang. It doesn't fit me now, I'm afraid." She giggles softly, patting her stomach. "I've gotten a bit of a tummy since joining the monastery. The food here is so nice." She sounds ashamed. "I love a nice bite to eat; I can't help myself."

"You could've fooled me," I respond, desperate to provide a hint of comfort. "You have a lovely figure."

"And that, Rolan," sighs Dorothea, "Is where you'll learn a valuable lesson about us ladies." She takes ahold of my hand and brings it over her stomach. There she holds it for a while. With each passing moment I'm drawn into the depths of her gaze. "We're skilled at hiding our imperfections behind well-tailored clothes."

Hearing you put yourself down hurts, Dorothea. Truly it does. You're wonderful. I know fellows back home in Goneril who would fight in the streets bare-fisted for a simple chance to talk with a woman like you. There has to be something I can do to stop you dwelling on your appearance. I understand being neat and tidy, but obsessing is sad. I'm not just going to turn my back on you because of something as trivial as the way you look.

Noble lads might do that, but I was raised differently.

Words haven't always worked so far. She's a girl swayed by action. Here goes nothing.

I bring my lips to Dorothea's cheek and revel in the softness of her skin. A short peck. Nothing more and nothing less. "You should stop worrying," I tell her with assurance. "You're fine for me just as you are. If anything it's me who's getting the better deal here."

Dorothea pouts. It's brief but adorable. "Stop it, you. Don't put yourself down," she says insistently. "I happen to think you're rather dashing. You're tall, and your wild black hair is lovely. Be nice to yourself."

"Only if you do the same, Dorothea. I didn't give my heart to you for your looks." Again I kiss her cheek with belief and compassion. "I'm here with you because of one important thing. The most special thing about you."

"And what might that be?"

"Who you are, of course."

The brunette falls quiet at my words. She looks to be a million miles away. For the longest time she doesn't say a thing. Here's hoping my shot at a supportive gesture didn't hurt her feelings. Some ladies are fragile. It only takes a small nudge to send them into a downward spiral.

Dorothea smiles warmly and frees hand from mine. "Okay then, Rolan..." To my surprise, she starts working open the buttons of her jacket. "In that case... I'll show you." A wink is what I'm given, and little else. "I'll let you see all I keep hidden. You've stayed true to me; I trust you."

If you trust me then why do you sound so nervous?

The first thing to go is Dorothea's jacket. Beneath it waits a simple black vest top with short sleeves. She lifts it away with a smirk, exposing the fullness of her chest to my sight. My blood warms and my breaths turn heavy. I shouldn't stare. I know that. But... goddess help me, she's amazing. Her skin is perfectly smooth, save a small but deep scar. It starts below her breasts and finishes just above her stomach.

Dorothea edges away from me. She stands in the middle of the room; the upper half of her clothing is all but gone.

She throws off her hat to reveal a trio of silver hairs mixed in with her brunette waves. They shine amidst the candlelight.

"Well?" The songstress closes the gap with a wiggle to her step. She coils her arms over my shoulders. "What do you think?" Her tone is laced with romance. Our noses touch. I feel the warmth of her breaths against my face. "Do you like what you see?"

"But of course." I slide one of my hands downward, trailing the tip of my finger along the length of Dorothea's scar. She shivers amidst the sensation; she's trembling. "You're as beautiful on the outside as you are the inside..."

"But my scar... And my hair..."

"Stop it. You're all I could ask for..." I quiet her fears with a loving and soulful embrace of our lips. She quakes in my arms; I hold her with all of the dedication I can muster. Our hands begin to wander. Our feelings heat and our passions flare. I want you, Dorothea. I-I want to make you happy. I want to show you that a woman with your kind heart and goddess-like beauty has nothing to fear.

The harder she kisses me, the harder I kiss back. The more sinful the place touches, the more I do the same. Beat for beat. Second by second. Heartbeat by heartbeat. Our instinct speaks for us. Button by button Dorothea brings my shirt undone. I moan into her; her fingers find their down by toned and clammy chest. She brings her body against mine; her full and ample breasts press against my chest. Our shared heat is unbelievable. Droplets of perspiration crawl down her the songstresses' forehead drip against my sizzling skin.

We part lips. We're panting. Our bodies shudder with longing.

I want more than I can have. Dorothea's scent makes me thirsty. I bite down on the corner of my lip and ball my hands into tight fists. I'm throbbing. I'm swelling. My head is light and the room is almost spinning. "W-We should stop," I rasp. "We keep this up and I'll lose control... We're not married and we're still students here."

"Not yet," responds Dorothea, "We're not married yet... But we will be someday. Rolan," she continues, clasping her palms over my cheeks. "This is why I came here... to find a man who'll love me for all I am, and I found someone; I found you. I'm not afraid..." With tearful eyes she caresses me; she pleads with me. "Stay beside me and I swear to you... I'll never leave. I'll stand by you no matter the struggles you face. I'll be yours... _forever_."

At last the picture is revealed to me. There's no room for doubt in my mind. Dorothea wishes to entwine her life with mine.

"Are you asking for my betrothal, Dorothea Arnault?"

She smiles with tenderness, "Yes. I think I am."

"Then you'll have it. I'll accept. I swear myself to you this day. My life is your life. My future is yours." I affirm my commitment with my lips against her glistening forehead. "Someday, once we're settled in Adrestia, we'll get married."

"In that case... I'm not afraid; I'll show you all I have." Dorothea edges back and releases the buckle holding her skirt in place. The garment falls from her curvy hips; she steps free of it, kicking it aside. Nothing but a pair of lacy black undergarments protect her modesty. Before I'm able to reach out and touch, however, the buckle of my belt is grabbed. "Not yet," she hums. "Be patient."

Before long we're tangled together, sprawled upon the linen sheets of Dorothea's plain single bed. I'm left wearing nothing but my shorts thanks to a playful attack on her part. I heave for breath. My beloved sits atop of me; she slinks her digits over my pectorals and down to my stomach. She intoxicates me with her seductive charms.

I can barely bring air into my lungs. I'll faint if she keeps teasing me like this. It's now (as my senses swirl) that Dorothea permits me to touch her underwear. They're damp with enjoyment. She moans loudly as pull aside the cotton. A smooth patch of womanly hair rewards my curiosity. A symbol of maturity I've long lusted after. The experiences I've enjoyed since joining the monastery have been so very different to innocent courtship back home.

There's no wonder the Knights of Seiros hide all of the racy reading material from the students here.

"I hope you don't think it's dirty," Dorothea says nervously. Her face burns a deep crimson. "Most of the noble girls drink potions to get rid of it... but I didn't want to. Too expensive, and they say it burns."

There's so much pressure among highborn circles to look pleasing. It's completely unfair.

I hadn't noticed Hilda making such a fuss over her body. Then again, she was probably too laid-back to care.

"Fear not... You're everything I'd hoped for." I stroke Dorothea's special place. She shivers. My fingers become slick as they brush the petals of her precious rosebud. The harder she pants the quicker I get. I'm going to make her feel nice if it's the last thing I do. She's done nothing but open her heart to me; she's eased my pain in some of my greatest times of need. I've gotta return the favor.

The bedside candle fizzles out. We're left in darkness. We have nothing but our senses to guide us. Which is fine by me.

"Oh- Oh goddess..." Dorothea cries out. Her entire body tenses and her voice trembles. Overwhelmed by the bliss of release, she slumps exhaustedly against my chest. I bring an arm around her waist. We cuddle in the dark and share clumsy kisses.

Dorothea paws at my shorts once she's gathered her composure. She purrs in my ear, pinching my earlobe with her teeth, "Your turn, darling."

I gently move Dorothea's hand aside. "It isn't about me tonight; I can wait." I have to show Dorothea how strongly my heart beats for her. I'm far from perfect, but she's taught me a valuable lesson. You cannot give your all to another if you cannot love yourself. I'm a commoner, but that doesn't mean I'm worthless. And that's exactly why I'll stay beside my wonderful Black Eagle. I'll make her feel good in both body and soul.

To say that I don't love Hilda would be a lie. But I know now where my future is.

Adrestia. At Dorothea's side.

She and I are so very alike.

"Awww... But I wanted to make you feel good too."

The brunette tries with renewed fire to tease and torment me. She slips her fingers beneath my shorts; she carefully strokes the tip of my sword. I take in a sharp breath and throw my head against the pillows. With every second my restraint slips further and further away. I-I can't resist. Bested, I close my eyes and enjoy Dorothea's gift. This is our first night of many together. And I'll treasure it. Even if things are far more... intense than I'm used to.

Dorothea silences my rasps with kisses. She works her wrist harder the louder I get. The air in the small bedroom is thick with pleasure. I-If she keeps this up I'll melt. "Let it out," she utters sensually in my ear. "Please? For me?"

I writhe against her touch and bite my lip in protest. "C-Careful... If you keep going..."

Dorothea gives an impassioned moan, "Exactly. I've never done this for a man before. You're the first. _My only_."

Her aroused admission tips me over the edge. She tugs my shorts down to free my manly prowess. White-hot flames claim me. My moan of release is stifled by my lover's lips. My essence spills over Dorothea's clammy palm. I-I've never felt so amazing.

"Was it nice?" Dorothea asks with a tender chuckle.

"Oh yes..."

"Wonderful." She lays her head against my chest, "You're heart's pounding."

"I wonder why," I snort with laughter.

My amusement tickles Dorothea. Giggling, she wipes her digits on the sheets. "Messy..."

"You insisted," I smirk. " _My lady_..."

Drenched in sweat and nearly as naked as the day we were born, we curl up and share one-another's warmth. I could get used to tranquillity like this. The ticking of the clock at the back of the room is soothing. Tomorrow will be a new day with new challenges. But so long as I can wake up beside Dorothea like this, I'll be the luckiest man in the world.


	3. Departure

Today is the day where everything changes. I feel less like a young man coming into his own and more like an adult. It's like Pop said. I'm making choices the likes of which will shift the course of my future - for months if not years to come. And perhaps most importantly of all, a woman tenderly asked for my betrothal last night. It's unbelievable. Well, what I mean to say is... I'm amazed. A lass as gorgeous as Dorothea wishes to walk hand-in-hand with me.

She's even offered for me to live with her in Adrestia.

Everything is moving so very quickly, but then again... I reckon that's what an adult's life is all about. It's funny, now that I think about it. In fact, I've been thinking all morning about how mature Dorothea is for her age. Plenty of the lassies here (both noble and commoner) are enjoying the last fleeting embers of their teenage days. I've overheard plenty of highborn women discussing how they'll be married off to noble lords no sooner than graduating the monastery.

My biggest question hurts to consider. Will the same fate befall Hilda? She is the daughter of a highborn family, after all. Even if I hadn't chosen to give my affections to Dorothea, would the two of us have been allowed to love? I feel so many emotions over the matter. And with them come further questions. Who knows? Maybe it's for the best this way. I'll say goodbye to the Golden Deer today and never look back. As much as it hurts to admit it, Hilda and I were probably walking different roads anyway. Not that I feel any better about it.

After dressing and sharing a morning kiss with Dorothea, I depart for class. She's still half asleep in bed by the time I'm ready to go. I leave the keys to the door on my bedside table. "Sleep well," I smile. She smiles back through the haze of dreams. It's better she gets dressed and follows long after I've already left. She won't get seen by too many students this way.

* * *

I start to stall the closer I get to my homeroom. The reality of what I'm about to do hits me like a fist to the gut. This is my last day as a Golden Deer, and not a single member of my class knows - not even Miss Goneril. I-I don't know if I can do this!

"No, Rolan," I whisper, coming to an abrupt stop before the doorway. "You can do this," I tell myself at a whisper. My hand trails over my chest to take note of my heartbeat. The organ therin pounds in a desperate rhythm.

"Do what?" Comes a familiar voice from behind. A dainty hand rests on my shoulder. Hilda, blissfully unaware of the day's events, stands in front of me with the most welcoming of smiles. She pecks my cheek in greeting while nobody's looking. "Goood morning Rolan." Her voice is full to the brim with warmth and cheer. "Are you ready for class? I think I've almost got the Technical Combat thingie on our test paper memorized." The noble lass rolls her eyes mockingly. "It was sooo much hard work, but then I remembered what you told me."

I'm rendered speechless. The longer I stand here the closer I am to being sick. My senses are skewed. I'm dizzy with nerves. I have to say something to her, anything. Right here and right now. The least I can do is spare a girl whom I still love dearly a painful goodbye.

"Hilda I-"

Church bells chime. And with them, my time is up. Hilda snags my hand and drags me into the classroom. "Alright," she beams, especially cheerfully. She comes to a stop at our usual desk near the back. Our place away from prying eyes, where a great deal of secret hand-holding and gentle petting has taken place. "Let's get started. I'm gonna nail this test if I can," she declares fearlessly. "Just watch."

"Morning class," comes Professor Byleth's regular morning greeting. She takes her rightful place before the chalkboard and scribbles names for all of us to see. The unfortunate souls who turned in their practice papers late. We're getting nearer and nearer to the morning announcements. As if to make matters worse, Hilda has her hand in my lap beneath the table.

"Now before we begin today..." Professor claps sharply. Idle chatter and the all too common gossiping voices fall away. The stillness in the room is almost deafening to me. If my heart thumps any harder I think I'll keel over. "There will be a slight delay to our test today. The schedule is shifting because of a somewhat... unexpected transfer."

The classroom comes to life with speculation.

"A transfer?" One of my fellow first-years says, tapping her fingers against her desk. "Who might it be?"

A second classmate counters her question with one of his own, "Maybe one of the Blue Lions is joining us." He smiles a dreamy-eyed smile, abuzz with curiosity. "Oh I do hope it's Miss Anette. She's so beautiful... I've always hoped to ask her to the ball."

Professor taps her chalk against the face of the board, "Settle down, everyone."

Again the chatter falls flat.

"There will be no new student joining us today," she reveals. "One of ours is leaving for the Black Eagles. Miss Edelgard and I discussed the matter yesterday evening over tea. It was rather... surprising, but I decided to approve her request." My teacher gazes through the sea of people; she's fixated directly on me. Her expression is surprisingly sad. "It is a shame to see such a skilled swordsman leave us, but if his future lies in Adrestia then I wish him all the best."

Hilda gives the arm of my shirt a tug, "She's looking this way," the highborn girl whispers. "Who do you think Professor's talking about?"

I fail to find the courage to reply. Thankfully, her question is answered by Miss Byleth. "Rolan. Would you be so kind as to come to the front and say farewell to your classmates? I'm sure everyone would like to wish you well."

Hilda's heavy gasp nearly kills me outright. My stomach squeezes. I feel her grip upon my shirt tighten. She holds on even as I rise from the desk. "Of course, Professor Byleth." I answer calmly and politely, doing the best I can to keep my mask intact. I step out from the bench, and my childhood friend reluctantly lets go.

Each step toward the front of the classroom feels like hiking a mountain. My every breath is thin and painful. I scrunch my hands into fists to stop them from shaking. Teacher steps aside and allows me to take my place behind her lecture podium. Every set of eyes in the room is fixated upon me, from the people I don't know to some of the gallant third year students I've become acquainted with.

Leone. Claude. Ignatz. Lysithea. And many others. They're all waiting expectantly.

Everybody but the woman in this room I treasure most. Hilda rises from the bench. The sound of wood scraping against the stone floor makes my blood run cold. "E-Excuse me, Professor," she says with a raised hand; her voice is tiny and broken. "May I be excused? I-I have a headache all of the sudden..."

Miss Byleth gives a thoughtful nod. She glances at me out of the corner of her eye. She's an amazingly smart woman. If she doesn't know of the full extent of the bond I share with Hilda, I'll bet she has it all figured out by the end of today. "You may, Hilda. Take your time. We'll be resuming exam preparation in an hour."

Hilda rushes for the double doors quicker than I've ever seen her move before. She heaves them wide with surprising strength and leaves, bringing them closed again with a bang. I notice Claude glance toward the back of the room; he's quick to shake his head. I wonder if he knows too. Worse, I wonder if Hilda's told him of her feelings for me.

I wouldn't he surprised, given that the both of them are so like-minded.

"Rolan," says Professor, clearing her throat. "You're more than welcome to speak up."

What words will do justice to my hasty departure? Deep down I'll always be a Golden Deer at my core, even if my path diverges from the people in this room. Well, whatever I say, I'd better make it count.

"I know I've not always been the most outspoken person in the room," I start. Without Hilda here I find that speaking out becomes easier. No longer does my stomach hurt, even if I am a bit on the dizzy side. "But it won't change how I feel about our shared homeland." I should say what I've always felt. It's my last chance.

"The Alliance is a place where commoners seldom starve and our old folks are taken care of. And I know I'm leaving that behind now... But thank you all the same for being kind to me, all of you. Even if at first I didn't feel like I belonged here at Garreg Mach. This house is special. There are nearly as many commoners as nobles. You can't say that about the others. My reasons for leaving are... personal. But I'm proud of hailing from Goneril... I won't forget her."

 _Both the domain and the noblewoman._ I swallow bitterly, bowing my head with gratitude.

"And who knows? Maybe one day if some of you visit Enbarr in Adrestia you'll see me there. That's where I'll be going once I graduate."

I don't have the energy to say anything more. Stepping away from the podium, I give one last smile of thanks to Professor Byleth. "I'll be on my way now, as soon as I've packed up my things. I'm grateful for all of your support, Teacher."

"A pleasure, Rolan," she answers kindly. "I'm sure you'll do us proud."

Whispers aplenty begin circulating my now former-homeroom upon my return to an empty desk. Namely the back rows.

"Enbarr? Why's he going there?" is one student's wonder.

"I hear he's chasing after Dorothea from the Black Eagles," says another.

"But isn't he always hanging around with Miss Hilda?" asks a third. A dainty first year lass with curly auburn hair and freckled cheeks. "That has to be why she ran out like that... Did you see her? I swear she was about to start sobbing. Poor girl..."

"Alright class," Byleth quashes the gossip with yet another commanding clap. "It's about time we look over yesterday's lecture notes. We're holding a mixed-skill sparring tournament at the Training Grounds about a week from now. Hopefully some of you will enter."

It proves far harder to pack up my papers in my satchel than usual. My eyes are drawn to Hilda's scruffy class notes. The edges of the paper are crumpled. Wait... hold on. There's a folded note sat beside our shared inkwell. It's addressed to me. Looks freshly written too.

Finished with my preparations and ready to go, I swipe the note and make my way for the door. Out into the courtyard I go. A quick look to my left and right shows I'm alone. There's not a soul out here, though I overhear Professor Manuela delivering a speech to the Black Eagles as I walk past their classroom. It's apparently the norm for her to keep the doors open during class, or so I've been told.

"Now remember, class," she speaks with her signature allure. "Tomorrow afternoon we'll be welcoming a new transfer, though I'm sure Miss Edelgard has already told you. I hear he's a strapping young man from the Golden Deer. Oh my... I'll have to invite him for tea."

All I can think about is the way Hilda gasped as I rose from our desk. Her fingers were trembling as she held onto my shirt. Sighing deeply, I keep a wide berth of the Black Eagle classroom and head in the direction of my dorm room. With lessons still in session now might be a good time to stop by the Training Grounds and take my mind of things. In fact, I'll do that.

But first? I should see what Hilda wrote for me. Coming to a stop outside of the door to my room, I unfold the piece of paper. A lump forms in my throat. My heart cracks like glass. Sicker and sicker I feel, until tears blur my vision.

_"How could you be so cruel? You said I had potential; that you believed in me. I suppose I can't be that important to you after all."_

I'm left vanquished by her words, utterly destroyed as though a Demonic Beast has trampled over me. With tears streaming down my cheeks I kneel and check beneath the doormat. The key to my room is there. Dorothea thankfully had the foresight to leave it here instead of taking it with her. I place the key into the lock and turn it.

I think back to Pop's words of advice when he visited the other day.

" _Stand tall. Do what I couldn't. Choose the girl yer heart beats for, and don't regret it. Stay strong; own yer choice. Ye hear me_?"

I've made my choice and stuck by it. Yet here I am, still wrought with bitterness. Still miserable over the pain I've caused another. A valuable lesson sits in the palms of my hands. Hilda's letter proves it. This is what it means to be an adult - to make tough choices that won't make everyone happy, to choose a path and walk it.

I shove open the doors to my room and step inside. The tears in my eyes tell a bitter truth.

Sometimes our actions hurt others. And by making one woman happy, I've totally crushed the hopes of another. My childhood friend. The girl who's messy room I tidied while my father baked bread in the kitchens of the Goneril Estate. The girl who deep down, I loved from the moment we reunited at this monastery. Hilda's been wounded because of me.

Wiping my eyes, I sit upon the edge of my bed. It's neat and tidy; Dorothea must've made the sheets. A darn good job she's done, too. "If this is what it means to be a man," I whisper, "Maybe I'm still more of a child than I thought..."

Whatever the case, I know what I'll do next.

I toss my satchel to the corner of my room and rise from the bed. I'll spend the rest of the day training.

Picking up my practice sword from its place by the cupboard, I begin on my way, locking the door again as I go.

If I'm going to make Hilda suffer for the sake of my happiness, then I'd better be sure I'm ready to prove my worth as a Black Eagle. As a woman for whom my heart will always beat (no matter where I go) she deserves that much. My only wish is that I hadn't been so foolish.

Turning away from my house and my country was far from easy.

** To be continued... **


	4. Petra

If there is one place I view like a second home here in Garreg Mach, it's the training grounds. Here I'm free of all worry and fear. I need not dwell on my choices. The goal is simple from the moment I enter. Fight. Become stronger. Win. I can strive to attain my goals through hard work. That (in my mind) is the greatest honor of all.

Lady Edelgard has given me a chance. When the time comes I'll not prove unworthy.

Sword strike after sword strike. Breath after breath. Slash after slash. The dance of combat works wonders at clearing a cloudy mind. It cleanses the thoughts and invigorates the senses. The afternoon has gone by quicker than usual. I've bested a pair of first year students of the Blue Lions in friendly sparring. Adrenaline swims through my blood with heat akin to flames. I'm alive with vigor and purpose.

"Thank you, both of you." I lower my head in gratitude to the pair of students from the rival house. "A good fight. I hope we can cross swords again soon; maybe before the combat tournament."

The three of us exchange pleasantries for a while longer. The first years depart at the toll of an afternoon bell. I'm left with a practice sword in my hands and plenty of questions. Will the Black Eagles be different to the Golden Deer? They say there's hardly a single commoner among the Adrestian house. Most of them are highborn or related to governors. The son of the Prime Minister is among their number, too. Most of them come from positions of influence.

A stark contrast to the students of the Leicester Alliance. Ignatz is common born; the son of one of our largest trading companies. Raphael also comes from a humble background. Leone is a straightforward and diligent lass from a small village. And then there's me.

"Here's hoping everything goes well..."

I put away my training sword for now. Having being here for a few hours, it's about time I leave and get some rest.

My desire for respite is denied when the doors of the Training Grounds are brought open; the hinges squeak. In the doorway stands a certain somebody who's left quite the lasting impression upon me; an exotic princess of a foreign island nation. I'm made to smile in light of her arrival. A smile born of respect and admiration.

"Hello there Miss Petra." I address Brigid's future leader with yet another bow of the head. "I hope you're well."

Petra's eyes light up, "It is nice to be meeting you again, Rolan. The joy is mine to have."

She pushes the doors shut behind her and joins me in a hurry. There's an intensity about her. "Are you here for the training?"

Her question comes across as polite and hopeful. To say I need a nap is putting matters simply. But I don't want to let Petra down when she so clearly wants to spar. I see it in her eyes; it's like the time we crossed swords during the mock battle of the three houses. I feel a great deal of warmth in the way she speaks with me; a warmth which increases every time we battle.

"Yes. That's right," I answer. "I've the energy for one more round."

We share a mutual nod of understanding; an unwritten agreement of sorts. It was the same when we first crossed paths. Petra and I take up our positions at the centre of the room. I draw my wooden armament and so does she. Now, it could be my imagination, but I swear her cheeks are flushed a soft hue of red. "I have been hoping greatly to fight you again," she says with excitement.

An excitement I likewise share. "Me too."

One foot ahead of the other, I take up my stance. My senses surge as I prepare to once again indulge in the dance of combat. I feel alive with purpose - ready to prove my worth. "Shall we begin, Petra?"

Brigid's future leader smirks, "Yes. I think we should be starting. I will show you the learning of my new skills!"

As usual, Petra is quick to launch an all-out offensive. With a warrior's scream she lunges. I raise my wooden sword to block her first attempt. Swing after swing makes my footing uneasy, but I refuse to back down. Anchoring my feet into the sandy underfoot, I push back against my foe's impressive might. Step by step sees I nudge her in reverse; it's an uphill struggle.

A great many students of the Black Eagle House are spell casters; they're adept in the arts of healing or conjuring fireballs. Far fewer take up a frontline roll. Petra more than makes up for this weakness in their ranks. Miss Byleth regarded me as one of the more skilled swordsman of the Golden Deer, and I'm being pushed to my absolute limit.

Every breath is heavy. My arms burn from excessive exertion. My every attack is matched with equal ferocity. I'm stuck in a deadlock from which I cannot escape. Neither one of us intends to back down.

"You are very able. It is making me pleased," says Petra. Beads of sweat crawl down her forehead. She gives a stiff exhale and puts all of her weight behind our exchange. My legs ache under the strain. "I find joyfulness in knowing you will join our house."

"Makes two of us," I grunt. "Not many match you in a fight."

A woman of her calibre deserves the utmost respect, but that doesn't mean I can lose this scuffle.

In my mind's eye I see both Dorothea and Hilda. They cheer me on from the side-lines. I can't let either of them down. I have to do them proud. I have to win; my success as a future blade of Adrestia depends on sharpening my abilities.

An icy heat rushes over me. I'm invigorated; focused. The heart within my chest pounds at double speed. Like a berserker I'm freed of the chains that bind. An empowered growl slips free of my lips. And with one mighty heave I shove Petra. She skids through the sands. I rush ahead, uncaring of anything but victory. In both a single swing this will end.

"You will not be the winner so easy," the princess declares proudly.

She leaps from my path. I turn to face her as best I can, unable to correct my course in time. What results is a feral but misguided swipe in Petra's general direction. She too throws the weight of her weapon my way. A dull pain grips my side. My eyesight skews. And the next thing I know, I'm falling to my knees.

My fury subsides, washed away by the cooling wind of rationality. I drop my armament. A shaky wheeze falls from my mouth.

Petra towers over me. She slips her sword away and offers a hand. Her uniform is damp with perspiration. Her gaze is kind and considerate. She's so very pleased with herself. "The winning is mine to enjoy this day," she grins.

"It sure is," I exhale. Petra helps me upright. Exhausted from the bout, I brush the sand from the legs of my trousers. "Well done."

Such a simple task proves a chore.

Once my clothes are clean I focus upon Petra. The way she's looking at me is strange. I daresay there's a gentleness about her. It's like she's a different person all of the sudden. Yes, she's still holds a prideful aura of sorts. But there's something more.

Petra inches closer. Her face is beet-red. "I am wanting to tell you something of my feelings." She touches my hand with hers. She's so close; I feel the warmth of her body against mine. "You are a person worthy of the respecting. The more we fight... the more I am thinking about you. It is a feeling of niceness."

It's good to know that she views me in such a positive light. "I feel the same way too. It'd be great if we could be friends, Petra."

My admission earns stony silence. Petra sighs with frustration. She frowns, almost as though she's annoyed. "I do not think you are understanding. Maybe the meaning of my speaking is wrong... Forgive me." Petra withdraws in a hurry. Again there is breathing room between us. "What I mean to say is..." She flounders while attempting to find her place. It's unusual to see her so flustered. "I am wanting be in your company..."

Petra turns her back to me. Her shoulders slump as though there's a weight pressing upon them. She doesn't say another word for the longest time. There's a shift in the air. Suddenly I feel uneasy, nervous even. Part of me wants to reach out and ask what's wrong. But Petra begins walking toward the door before I'm able. My concerns remain trapped and soundless.

Bringing the hefty entranceway to the training grounds wide open, she stalls. And again s sighs. "Dorothea is lucky to share such closeness with you... very lucky." Petra swings on her heels, facing me one last time. She bares a sad smile. With the sunset baring down upon her she appears strangely... pretty. I've never seen her this way until now. "You do not treat me like a foreigner. You are kind. The way of Brigid; my way, is one of fighting and struggle. I think we are of much likeness... I am respecting of strength, and so are you."

Bowing her head, Petra bids me farewell. "I would be liking to sit beside you when you join our classes. My thanks at you, Rolan."

I move to meet her by the door. She's quick to retreat, however. There's so much I've yet to understand about this exotic overseas visitor, and even more I'd like to ask her about. No sooner than I open my mouth however, does she take off in a run. She's halfway down the steps and off in the direction of the dorm rooms before I can so much as find my Barings.

Looking to the orange sunset, I'm assailed with yet more questions.

"What did she mean by her struggle? She's royalty. An honored guest of Adrestia."

Whatever the case, I'll be sure to speak with her more when the time is right. With the day coming to a close, I should head for the bathhouse. First things first, I should collect some soap and a fresh change of clothes from my room. And on my way there, my thoughts again wander to my friend and practice partner. "I do hope you're alright."

Fighting against Petra fills me with a sense of reward. She's diligent toward her studies of combat. It shows in the way the brandishes a weapon. I wonder if all men and women of Brigid are as dedicated. If so, then I'd really like to see her homeland for myself. They say it's warm and humid all year round; tropical, even. Beaches of warm golden sand stretch out across the southern coastline. I've never been to a beach before; I've never been so lucky.

Whatever comes to pass, my choice is made and my path is set. By the end of the week I'll be recognized as a Black Eagle. With such an honor comes chances aplenty to experience different things. Maybe it won't be so hard to visit Brigid for myself one day. Heck, I'd be able to take Dorothea with me too. That sounds like a lovely idea.

Although, thinking of Dorothea makes me dwell on something in particular that Petra said.

_"Dorothea is lucky to share such closeness with you. Very lucky..."_

"What did you mean by that, Petra?" A question that keeps swirling in my thoughts for hours - even as I pick up my fresh clothes and head in the direction of the bathhouse. "Maybe I mistook her. She has it rough with Fodlan's language after all."

Well... if that is truly the case, I'll have to ask her again sometime. For now? I'll focus on the days ahead. Petra has helped me remain positive in the face of leaving my house behind. I'm grateful for the comfort she's provided, whatever the reason may be.

* * *

The bathhouse is a fair walk from the dorms. It's already getting late by the time I arrive. Stars cover the evening sky in a wonderful arrangement; they each twinkle as beacons of hope and wonder. My enjoyment of such a sight does not last long, sadly.

Steam billows forth as the bathhouse doors swing open, and through the screen of misty heat steps Hilda. A soft pink nightgown covers her curves loosely, and a towel keeps her long hair held in place. A pair of frilly cotton ankle socks cover her dainty feet. Our eyes meet. Miss Goneril pained by the very sight of me. A short gasp falls from her mouth. Stillness descends. I'm left speechless and remorseful. "Rolan," the noble girl speaks - more a whisper. "Why?"

Her question splits me in two. "Why?" She repeats. Her eyes quiver the longer she looks at me. "We're friends, right?" Agony laces Hilda's tone of voice. "You're my baker boy... I trusted you with my biggest secret. I thought you cared about me."

I cannot bring myself to lie, "I do care," is my sole defence.

"Then why leave?"

"Because-" My will to speak is gone. The words lodge in my throat.

Hilda totters forward on unsteady legs, resting a finger against my lips. "It's Dorothea. I know it. There's no other reason you'd go."

My stomach squirms. Gripped by guilt, I ease away from the highborn lady. "You're right," I reply. She deserves the truth. "As much as I care for you, I cannot deny where my heart belongs... No more lying. To you... or myself."

My admission earns a wounded smile from Hilda. She wraps her arms around her middle to stave off the nip in the air. She breaks our mutual gaze and looks dejectedly toward her feet. "You might've given up, but I won't - not this time." Tears spill down her cheeks and patter against the smooth stone pathway underfoot. "No way. Not after the days we've spent together."

No matter how much my childhood friend still cares for me, I cannot change my mind. It wouldn't be right. "Part of me will always hold you in high regard. But we can't go on like this. It's not fair to treat you and Dorothea so unfairly... I've made up my mind. I'll stick to it - even if you hate me. That's the way it has to be."

Hilda reaches out and snatches my hand; she squeezes it tight. Our eyes meet again. Her stare is one of searing intensity. "I could never hate you, Rolan." And just like that, Duke Holst's daughter pecks me against the cheek. An instant both fleeting and tragic. My heartbeat skips, and my body heats in the face of her heartfelt gesture. I'm taken aback.

Though no sooner than her lips touch my skin does she step back. Miss Goneril eases away, putting plenty of distance between us both. Her soft pink lips rise into a gesture of kindness, though she looks hurt beyond compare. "Be careful around those Adrestians. You hear me? Rumor has it there's something not quite right about the Black Eagle House... I'd be beside myself if you were hurt."

I turn in pained attempt at stopping Hilda from leaving; my hand rests upon her shoulder. She takes my gesture to heart, throwing her arms around me. If she holds on any tighter it'll be hard to draw air. "You hurt me this morning when you announced you were leaving... but I meant what I said... I won't just ditch you." Breathing deeply, gathering all of the will she has, Hilda lays her towel-wrapped head against my chest. "I'll make you a promise... for old time's sake."

"A promise... You don't need to," I protest. Regardless, I'm brought to silence by yet another finger against my lips.

Hilda nods assertively, "Yep. A promise. I Hilda Valentine Goneril, solemnly swear to protect you in your hour of need. If there ever comes a time where you're suffering; or you're hurt and need help... I'll do my best for you."

How can she be so kind to me after all I've done? "Hilda I- You shouldn't go out of your way for me..."

"Yeah, you're right. I shouldn't," she replies in agreement, "But someone very special taught me not to give up on the people that matter most. I figure I'll follow his example... even if I feel he's making a big mistake by leaving his home behind."

Hilda brushes by, breaking into a run as soon as she's past me. Though faint, there's a weight in my chest. My heartbeat is unsteady at the sight of the fleeing girl. Just short of vanishing from sight, however, Hilda turns around. For but a second she stalls before rounding the corner and leaving me behind, alone.

I turn my attention to the bathhouse, hand upon my aching heart.

"I'm sorry, Hilda, truly I am." I couldn't find the will to be untruthful any longer. As selfish as it makes me, even though we're both bound for separate paths. I will always cherish the moments I've spent in the company of Hilda of House Goneril.

All throughout my time taking a bath I cannot distract my wayward thoughts. Hilda is at the front of most. Our reunion all those weeks ago plays over again and again. Though faint, there's been adoration in the way she's spoken to me from the very beginning. I see it now. In her own laid-back Hilda approach, she was reaching out for me.

Her offering me a chance to serve was truly a chance for companionship.

Her desire to keep me close was out of love, not mere friendship.

And the first kiss we shared was sentimental beyond compare.

Truly, out of all the nobles I've ever met, Hilda is the kindest of them all. She doesn't care about the titles of others. All she's wanted is my support and affection. Something she once said shortly after I promised to stand by her was proof enough of that.

" _True... A guy can be handsome and come from a good family, but that doesn't tell you what a person's like on the inside. It's why I like keeping you close, Rolan. You're good looking and I can depend on you._ "

Praise I'm unworthy of, but praise I'll never forget.

It's going to hurt as I move onward, but I have to accept that. Hilda and I will always care for one-another, even if the roads we walk differ entirely. Our bond is stronger than most. I see that now, in light of the kindness she's shown me.

And that's why I'll hold my head high from this point.

Not just as a future Black Eagle, but as a Golden Deer, too.

**To be continued...**


	5. Nobility

I barely slept last night with the nerves I felt. The hardest part of preparing this morning was replacing the badge pinned to my shirt. For months I've proudly worn the mark of a Golden Deer. Today I've swapped it with the badge of the Black Eagles. The students of Adrestia's house are of noble birth: positions of power. They're the sons of daughters of governors and generals. Dorothea is the only one of a humble upbringing among the class.

I checked the courtyard sundial earlier. There are still thirty minutes until professor Manuela's lecture. My plan was to get here before everyone else. Being the last to arrive for a class is unsettling. Unfortonately, entering my new classroom is proving a chore.

I've been staring at the weighty grey steel door of the Black Eagle homeroom for an eternity. Unease holds my feet to the floor.

My stomach feels like it'll flip at any second. A deep breath in and a deep breath out.

"Alright Rolan. Keep it together. You can do this." No more stalling. I heave the almighty doors wide; the hinges groan painfully.

Upon stepping inside I'm greeted by sights not too different from my old homeroom.

A spawling stone chamber with a high roof supported by pillars. Two sets of benches are arranged in rows with a carpet of red velvet running down the middle to divide the room. There's a chalkboard; a desk and a podium elevated by a low platform at the front. Cobweb-covered bookshelves line the side walls; banners of the Black Eagles hang between them proudly for all to see.

There is a difference, however - aside the house banners. An elegant stained-glass window behind the teacher's desk. It depicts a saintly female figure - a woman of demure expression and angelic white robes. A depiction of the Goddess. She's worshiped by most of Fodlan, yet there are so few pictures in books. I've only seen two myself. Both were vastly different. The first was an image exactly like this - a beacon both pure and serene, adorned in white robes. The second was a younger lassie, probably teenage in years with a soft face and rounded cheeks. A long cape covered her short and dainty body.

I smile a thoughtful smile at the artful window. "Beautiful." Such a sight relaxes me.

Prepared for the day ahead, I choose a bench near the back and seat myself.

Sitting closer to the front might come across as overly enthusiastic. I'll take things steady and show Miss Edelgard I'm worthy in the best way I can, over by the training grounds - not with books. She values actions above words from what I've seen.

Slowly but surely students begin trickling in. A few here and there give me welcoming smiles or passing glances. I hear whispers too. Hardly a surprise. You can't escape swirling rumours at Garreg Mach. Banter is rife. From talk of students sneaking into town past curfew, to rumours about the scores of men Miss Manuela invites over to her quarters after hours.

Speaking of my new Professor, there's no missing her. "Norning to you all, Black Eagles." She strolls in with a sultry expression and a leather-bound tome under her arm. A tall and curvaceous woman with a mature demeanour and an alluring voice. The beauty mark on her cheek is pretty, too. Her way of dress (for a teacher) sure leaves a lot on show, not that I'm complaining. I'm a warm-blooded man after all. You can't beat a lady in a dress.

Minutes slip by quietly - more and more students arrive. Some are dressed pristinely; others are droopy-eyed with creased uniforms. I'm not surprised to see nobles in the thralls of a morning slump. I'll bet none of them wake up in the early hours to drag around flour sacks - or knead dough.

One of the highborn students catches my attention.

A towering but gangly fellow with a slim frame, a gaunt face and ghostly skin. A shiver scuttles under my skin the longer I gaze. There's an aloofness about him - something distant and calculating. His uniform is completely perfect without a single button out of place - I dare say he looks regal. Then there's his eyes. They're sharp and dark - two endless voids. Everybody he looks at (aside a rare few) step aside without question. He's feared; that much is obvious.

Lady Edelgard enters soon after. "Rolan. Please work hard in your first class," she comments while passing.

In the first row she sits, beside the pasty-skinned gentleman from a moment ago. The duo lean in close and start a hushed conversation. Their mouths are moving but they're too far away for me to make out specifics. The gangly gent snaps his focus in my direction once Edelgard finishes. My intuition flares in alarm at his scowl. What's his problem? I think I'll keep my distance. Best I don't get involved with iffy characters.

A tap on my shoulder breaks my concentration. I flinch, turning back. Dorothea greets me by ruffling my hair. "Hey there stranger," she speaks with cheer. The songstress puts down her satchel bag in the empty space to my right. Bringing her legs over the bench, she shuffles close - so close in that our bodies touch. "Are you ready for our first lesson? I can't believe it; we're in the same class."

"I was nervous when I first woke," I admit at a whisper. "But I'll do my best."

"Awww..." Dorothea giggles. She rests a hand atop mine. To avoid unsightly looks from fellow students we take our embrace beneath the table and link fingers. She squeezes my digits with care and tenderness. "You'll do just fine," she assures. "Most of the class are nice. Give it a week or two."

Dorothea's shining praise is a stark comparison to the man sitting with Edelgard. Something about him feels very wrong. "Dorothea..." I speak in a low voice. "What's the story with the guy next to Edelgard? He gave me a really uncomfortable stare; it's like he was disgusted or something."

Her expression falls just the slightest bit. "Oh... That's Hubert - son of the Marquisate of Vestra - very powerful. He's served Edel since they were children. They're always side-by-side. Did the two of you..." She pauses, glancing nervously Hubert's way for a split second. "Have a cross word?"

"No. Nothing like that. He and Miss Edelgard were talking. I'm not sure what about. That's how it happened."

Dorothea sighs with relief. "That's normal. He's our strategist; it's his job to decide who goes where when we're sent on missions."

"So you're saying he's sizing me up?"

"Probably, yes. I wouldn't fret." Dorothea gives my fingers a second supportive squeeze. "I put in a good word with Edel for you, after all."

"Most appreciated. Folks in Adrestia are different to those you find in the Alliance. Here's hoping I fit in here."

"You're quick to put yourself down too often," chuckles Dorothea. "I'm an Adrestian girl and you had no problems winning your way with me. Who knows?" she says in a teasing tone. "Just be your usual self; you'll become popular in no time."

"Kind as always. Thank you."

"Of course. You're special to me. Why do you think I invited you over the other evening?"

My cheeks flush at the memory. My heart almost misses a beat. I'm feeling clammy all of the sudden.

Dorothea winks, "Someone's red in the face," she smirks - ever the flirt. "I didn't expect my future husband to be so... cute." The clack of hurried footsteps stall her; a quiet relief. She gets carried away with her games now and again.

Petra stands in the homeroom doorway. She's breathing heavily, hot and flustered. The monastery bells chime just a second after she puts a foot through the door. "Please be forgiving my slowness, Teacher. I was hoping to be early, but was busy with the training."

"Oh it's quite alright, dear," calls Manuela dismissively from her spot beside the chalkboard. "Take a seat. I'm on the late side too. I was drinking with a dashing gentleman yesterday night - a town guard. Very attentive, but the poor thing couldn't keep up in the end."

Petra bows, "Thanking you with kindness, Professor Manuela."

Part of me wants to call Petra over; I'm saved the trouble. She sees me beside Dorothea and veers our way without so much as asking. Is it just me, or is she cheerful about something? Her cheeks are glowing all of the sudden.

"A kind hello for you, Rolan," Petra wastes no time in swinging her legs over the bench, sitting to the left of me. "It fills me with niceness to sit with you." No. I'm not imaging it. Her face is beet red. She's blushing - it's the same as our sparring session before. The corners of her lips rise into a grin. "I am eager to be learning with you."

"See what I mean Rolan?" comments Dorothea. "You'll be one of us before you know it." She releases my hand and returns hers to the table. "Hello there, Petra. I hope you're well."

Petra returns her greeting with equal kindness. "I am feeling much wellness."

Professor Manuela snaps her fingers to command the respect of her students. "Alright class." She stands behind the podium with poise, puffing out her chest. "Today we have a transfer from the Golden Deer. A few of you might've noticed him tucked away in the corner. Rolan," my teacher calls out. "Be a dear and introduce yourself, would you?"

I stand from my seat. Plenty the Adrestian students appear interested in me - the strange enigma who's quietly moved in without a word so far.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all. Like Professor Manuela said, I'm from the Alliance - born and raised in Goneril until I came to study here. My family own several bakeries, but I figure myself a swordsman. It'll be good training with the lords and ladies here; especially since I'm making my home in Enbarr when I graduate." That'll do for now. I seat myself and Professor starts with her lecture.

Low voices begin circulating in the rows not too far from me. A girl short in height with red hair is chattering with a friend - another girl with pink pigtails and a rounded face. I'm just close enough to make out what they're saying. "Kien from the Golden Deer said he's Dorothea's boyfriend..."

"That's him? Really?" the pink-haired girl replies. "She rejected Sylvain of the Blue Lions for some bread seller?"

Word of my love life has spread beyond my house. Great. Just great. I'd better be careful with my antics from now on.

"Sylvain?" gasps the redhead. "But why? Joining House Gautier would be a feat for a commoner like her."

"Shhh... She'll hear you."

She heard you alright, ladies. Dorothea's strained facade of pleasantness confesses what words cannot. And her stiff shoulders are equally telling. The poor girl is scribbling notes on her parchment paper twice as quick. If she keeps this pace we'll run short on ink.

I'm drawn away from the tongue wagging missies by a poke to my arm from Petra. "Will you train tonight? I am wishing to spar with you."

Her timing isn't great, but I'd be happy to polish our sword skills later. "Fine with me. I'll be there after sunset."

My approval causes a shift in my Brigid-born friend. She's determined all of the sudden. An inferno rages behind her smile. "I am greatly awaiting our fight." And fighting words they are, too. I'll bet she views our practice matches as some kinda strange rivalry. I know I do.

Class goes by quickly, but all isn't well.

Dorothea is still annoyed. She wears a mask of politeness, but her body language shows a different story.

She wastes no time putting away her papers; she's equally quick to step out from the bench and move for the door. Just short of leaving, she swings on her heels to meet me. "I'm heading to my dorm for a bit." Her voice is weak - distant.

"Is everything alright?" I reach out to my beloved; she turns her away from me.

"I'll be fine. Stop by later, won't you? Please? Just knock. I'll let you in." She's leaves - gone before I can answer.

 _Every mask we wear cracks eventually_. That's what Ma always used to say.

I follow out of concern. By the time I'm down the path Dorothea has already turned the corner; she's heading through the doors to the mess hall. Those gossiping girls have a lot to answer for. I've never seen her this disheartened. Is this a regular thing she deals with - the nobility judging her and all?

Highborn folks view love pretty differently to commoners. We're miles apart. I had strong feelings before; they're even stronger now.

Would Hilda's family have approved of me? After graduating Garreg Mach would we have been able to show our love openly?

I have a terrible feeling our relationship would've become kisses in secret; passions in the dark.

All the more reason to visit Dorothea later and check she's alright. We're the same. Two commoners trying to find our way. She's been a light at a bleak time in my life. I can only hope our nosy classmates didn't hurt her feelings too strongly.

"Rolan... is it not?" a man asks from behind. His sinister tone gives me a shudder.

I look over my shoulder. Hubert awaits, his brow raised impatiently. "Well?" He continues with a tap of the shoe. "Rolan is your name, correct? Speak."

"Correct," I respond, unwilling to turn and face him respectfully. He gives off a bleak and discomforting aura. I can't find words to describe what else bothers me about him, but I feel it - something dangerous. With a narrowed gaze I press on, "Can I help you?"

"A test," Hubert replies. "To show you are worthy." He folds his arms; the unnerving vibe I feel intensifies. "The monastery intends to host is a mixed-skill tournament between the three houses. It is next week. A trivial affair, true, but I want you to represent the Black Eagles alongside Miss Petra. I've been told the two of you fight effectively. Become a team. Tame our Brigid beast. Prove you are deserving of the honorary bestowed upon you by my mistress."

I'm left scowling by Hubert's awful nickname for Petra. I'd crack the guy if he weren't Edelgard's faithful serf, I can't put my Black Eagle status at risk. If Adrestia's future empress withdrew my scholarship I'd be gone. I'll bite my tongue, even if it annoys me. "Care to explain why should fight without reason?"

"Because we may have need of someone with your talents in the coming days. Rally Petra. That is all I will say on the matter."

Hubert returns to our homeroom. I'm bubbling with bitterness over his attitude.

Another test seems pointless. I thought I'd passed my test as a Black Eagle by sparring with Petra in the first place. Now this dark and scary character wants the two of us to fight as a pair? There's a reason of some kind - there has to be.

Edelgard and Hubert were talking earlier in class, but about what? No. I'll not overthink it.

For now I'll rest up in my room before checking on Dorothea.

Her wellbeing is my biggest concern. I hate it beyond compare when she's upset.

* * *

Nothing could've prepared me for knocking upon the door of Dorothea's bedroom before sunset. She greeted me in a skimpy black lace nightgown, her long chocolate hair spilled past her shoulders in glorious waves. The scent of her perfume was intoxicating; it rendered me helpless it.

Through the door she pulled me while the coast was clear.

Here I sit on the edge of her bed. My heart hammers.

"I'm glad you came, Rolan." Dorothea sits upon my lap, embracing me tightly as though her life depends on it. She nestles against the nape of my neck, breathing my scent and enjoying our closeness."Keep me company for a while. I'd be very grateful." Sadness and desperation both lace her voice. She squeezes her arms around my back with serenity; with compassion.

It'll be my pleasure. "What's troubling you, Dorothea?" I'll press my hunch. "Was it those girls in class?"

She nods, leaning in and pecking my lips. "I'll never understand some of these nobles. All they think about is finding a wealthy lover. They don't love for the sake of love. It's sad; truly. I have a friend with the exact same problem but reversed. Have you met Ingrid of the Blue Lions?"

A vague memory returns to me; it's hazy but it's there. Ingrid of House Galatea. A blonde girl of a mild temperament and a slim figure. If word around the monastery is to be believed she's training to become a Pegasus Knight. Word has it she's pleasant to spend time with. A real sweetheart with a love of chivalry; though I've never spoken to her personally. "I saw her at the mock battle earlier in the year. I didn't realize she was a friend of yours."

"She certainly is," reveals Dorothea. "We've become fine friends since our first year. She's lovely, really. Though her state of affairs is an unhappyone ." The songstress exhales glumly. "All Ingrid wants is to become a noble knight and marry for love... but her father pressures her to marry a young man who've recently came into a fortune - a real scoundrel. It's all her for crest. Passing it on is a constant worry for Ingrid's family, not her feelings."

No wonder the girls in class upset Dorothea with their talk of Sylvain. "So that's why you ran out so abruptly..."

"Exactly. Most nobles don't love because they want to; because their hearts guide them. They birth children for the sake of bloodlines - crests. Heirs and status. The thought of a life without love is empty to me; just awful..." Dorothea brings her palm against my cheek, "It would hurt beyond words if you and I became so distant. Promise me Rolan; promise you'll always treasure me for who I am."

I don't need to think twice. "You already know why I feel the way I do. I was clueless of your past as an opera singer when first we met, remember? Don't be so fearful. I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me."

I'm rewarded with a heartfelt kiss; a passionate kiss.

Dorothea smiles when she parts her lips from mine. "I'm glad; I want my babies to be born out of love - not family ties."

"Talk of babies already?" I ask jokingly. "In a hurry, are we?"

"Maybe when we're living in Adrestia," she winks. "Rolan..."

"What is it, dearest?"

She bats her eyelashes. "Stay for a while. Cuddle me. I'd like to take a nap."

"It'll bemy pleasure. Go ahead; get comfy. I'll lay here with you."

Dorothea shows her gratitude with yet another kiss before shuffling off my lap. We cosy up, snuggling atop the bedsheets. For a while we treasure the peace and quiet; the simple pleasure of being together. I wouldn't trade it for the world. My beloved lays against my chest; she patters her fingers my upon my stomach in a rhythm matching my heartbeat.

"Thank you Rolan, for listening to my worries with Ingrid. I want her to be happy."

In all honesty, I'd like to meet Ingrid - maybe introduce myself personally. She sounds kind enough. "It's my pleasure."

Dorothea closes her eyes, nestling her head of brunette waves against my neck. I run my fingers through those silky locks. It doesn't take long for my wonderful songstress to drift off into a peaceful slumber. The sound of her gentle breaths relax me. I feel on the tired side just looking at her. Moments like these are some of the nicest I have at Garreg Mach. Peaceful - free of concerns. I wouldn't change them for the world.

Alone with my thoughts, I'm drawn back to Hubert's request. Why does he want me to team up with Petra? And what exactly did Dorothea say when she spoke to Edelgard about me? I wish I had answers. I'm not familiar with Adrestian ways of doing things. Taking a shot in the dark is never a smart move, especially when you aren't yet on steady ground. I exhale my annoyance, raising my eyes to the ceiling.

Whatever the case, I've no problem working with Petra. There's plenty to respect about her. She's skilled. Polite. Dedicated. Pretty.

"Fine," I mouth silently. "I'll do it."

Not for Hubert's sake. Not for mine, either. I'm beyond capable of proving myself.

I'll do it for Petra - because she's a nice person. Because she's deserving of far greater respect than she gets. For the longest time I believed (like many others) that the princess of Brigid was an honored guest of Adrestia. Edelgard and those around her said as much. They insisted upon it. Now? I'm feeling cynical. But if there's one thing I am sure of, it's Petra's dedication. She's got fire and fury in spades.

She's an outsider of the Black Eagle house - much like me.

I won't let some snob speak ill of her.


	6. Letter

I haven't been able to sleep for the life of me. I keep thinking of Petra no matter how hard I try to relax. I've been staring into the long mirror next to Dorothea's dresser for what must be an hour now. It's strange - just a single day in the Black Eagle house has made me feel such powerful emotions. I'm secure in my beliefs in a way I didn't think possible. Hubert's judgement of Petra was unfair. He had no right to speak about her in the way he did.

I'll show credit to my former-classmates in the Golden Deer where's its due. They're all straight-talking folks. Even Lorentz (the picture of nobility through and through) told you how he felt about you face-to-face. There was little insulting someone out of earshot. Claude didn't allow it; neither did Miss Byleth.

My old house wasn't perfect, but there was far less backstabbing.

An exhausted sigh falls from my mouth. I hold my face in my hands. "Keep it calm, Rolan..." I whisper, being mindful of the noise while Dorothea snoozes.

Now isn't the time to let my feelings get the better of me. I know it too. But I can't help myself. I've come to realize just how irked I get when these noble sorts wipe their boots on those they have power over. Petra is a princess, don't get me wrong. But she's a princess at the behest of Adrestia's whims. I'm beginning to see what she meant when we talked after training the other day.

I'm pulled from my moment of reflection by a gentle yawn from Dorothea. I shift my hands away from my face so she can't see how intensely I've been pondering. The last thing she needs is to tie herself in knots over my gripes.

"Did you sleep well?" I ask - intent on masking my worries. "You're looking well rested."

"Absolutely wonderfully," my dearest lady answers. "Though I was hoping to wake up with you at my side," she chuckles. "Wait... Is something the matter, Rolan? You're wearing quite the scowl. I've never seen you so grumpy before..."

"It's nothing," I deflect, forcing a smile. "We all have those days when we think too hard. Don't take it to heart."

"I can't simply ignore it; you're looking most unhappy." Dorothea doesn't buy my excuse. She swings her legs over the side of the bed and moves to stand behind me. "You can always confide in me if you're upset. I'll always support you - come rain or shine."

She wraps her arms around my middle, drawing me into a cuddle from behind. I'm kissed against my neck. "I'll ease your aches and pains," says Dorothea tenderly. "You changed houses so we can stay together. The last thing I want is you being unhappy with me."

Some ladies have ways of easing my fears, and Dorothea is among the best of them. I'm disarmed by her loving nature.

"You're not the problem. I promise. It's Hubert."

"Hubert?" Dorothea's brows knit with concern. She holds me just a bit tighter. Her fingers dig into my sides. "Does this have something to do with our chat in class this morning?" The songstress asks worriedly. "I do hope the two of you are getting along."

I'd rather not cause an issue when I can resolve matters through hard work. "It's a tiny problem. Kinda pointless."

"Rolan." Dorothea's voice becomes stern - motherly even. It's as though I'm at home in Goneril and being scolded for slacking off with bread deliveries. "It can't be that small if you were scowling like you were. _Talk to me_."

Dorothea's not backing off; kind but serious in equal measure. I know an unwinnable battle when I see one.

"Fine - If you really must know I'll tell you."

I get to work explaining Hubert's request of Petra and I. I'm doubly thorough with the details, mentioning his desire to see us compete in the upcoming tournament, and the unsightly name he called Brigid's princess. I feel frustration bubbling within my heart; a sensation both deep-rooted and unrelenting.

Dorothea doesn't seem happy either. "He called Petra a beast?" Her eyes quiver with the realization. "How mean..."

"Exactly." I slip free of Dorothea's embrace and make for the dormitory door. She follows, stalling as I take a firm grip of the handle. "I can't let an insult like that pass. Call me petty if you wanna, but my time in Garreg Mach's changing the way I see plenty of things. Feels to me like the nobles of your house are the sorts who abuse their power plenty when it suits them. My old man was right telling me to act carefully around the higborn."

"It's not petty at all, and you aren't wrong." Dorothea takes her place in front of me. She kisses my cheek with her pillowy lips, nodding assuredly. "Now you've learned why I was so desperate to marry well. The only way people like you and me and Petra have a chance is if we compete with the best of them." Her expression becomes rainy for a second. That rain is quickly replaced with a glimmer of hope - a candlelight in the dark. "Help her, Rolan. Show Hubert just how valuable you and Petra can be. I'll cheer for you both on tournament day."

I relish one last cuddle with Dorothea before opening the doors wide. The cloudless sky is tinted orange. I feel invigorated - determined above all else to show my worth, and be there for my newfound friend. A busy session at the Training Grounds awaits.

* * *

It never ceases to amaze me how intensely Petra dedicates herself to the arts of combat. She was already practicing stances when I arrived at the Training Grounds. There wasn't another student in sight; she was the only one here. I was pulled into the arena in the centre as soon as she caught sight of me.

No half-arsed delaying. No fuss.

"I am happy to be seeing you, Rolan." She handed a sword my way to mark the beginning of our sparring ritual.

Pass after pass followed. Exchange after exchange. Body blow after body blow. A dance of exertion and dedication both - a dance I've quietly come to adore sharing with Petra. I can't fault her burning desire to become stronger. Every time she's knocked over she gets right on up again. She's covered in scrapes and cuts and bruises. Her uniform is drenched with sweat and dirt. Nothing stops her.

She's relentless. She's passionate about her craft. She values strength above all else.

Though she catches me off guard with the next thing to come out of her mouth.

"I would be liking to share something very dear to me." Petra's cheeks redden. Her eyes surge with fires unrelenting. She throws tosses aside her wooden practice sword. Moving one foot ahead of the other, she raises her fists and extends her fingers outward like claws. "Will you allow my showing of Brigid's fist fighting? Think of it as a gift; my present for you."

"Hand-to-hand combat?" I'm hard-pressed to give an answer she'll like. "I'm good with a sword, but scrapping bare-first's not my forte."

"Then please allow me to be teacher for this lesson. I want to repay the kindness you are giving me."

There's a pang of nervousness in my stomach. Using a sword is one thing. Being up close and personal in battle is something I'm used to. Throwing punches and kicks is different - very different. A hot flash sweeps over me at the idea of being close to Petra, but I can't explain why.

"I don't know if I can do it. No way am I as good as you..."

"Please be giving me this honor. I would be greatly pleased."

I take a deep breath to cool off. I'm swayed by Petra's eagerness, even if this is way outside of my comfort zone. There might come a time when a blade is out of my reach in the heat of battle. Improving my skills without the use of steel could be the difference between life and death someday, especially if I'm to serve in Enbarr. Goodness knows what I might encounter there.

"Okay Petra." I drop my weapon to the sand and take up a fighting-ready position. "Come at me with everything you've got. Don't go easy on me."

"As you are asking, Rolan. I will give all I have." And go easy Petra doesn't. With a warrior's scream she charges fearlessly.

My first instinct is to root my feet into the floor. I keep steady and jab at Petra. She dodges with ease. Her fancy footwork is so impressive it's terrifying. If she were any quicker I'd swear she were an illusion. My every attempt is made to look like child's play against her efforts. Irritated by my lack of progress, I take another swing but meet nothing but air. And a second. And a third. My fourth attack is caught with almost no effort.

Petra applies pressure against my wrist; the pain forces open my closed hand. The next thing I know my feet are swept from under me. I'm toppled and thrown over-shoulder. I collide back-first with the sandy floor. My bones shake; my head spins in a nauseating circle.

"I believe this victory is mine to be enjoying..." Petra looms overhead. The sickness I feel is slowly clearing, but not quickly enough.

I'm gripped by both of my wrists, tightly like a vice. Petra climbs atop of me; alive with flame and fury like nothing I've seen before. Her breaths have fallen into hefty animalistic panting. Beads of sweat crawl down her face and patter against my scuffed overcoat. The smile upon her lips is one of pride - the pride of her people - the wills and desires of all Brigid united. She's truly unstoppable.

I'm at Petra's mercy, and not because she threw me. There's... something more.

Nearer and nearer the princess slinks. Her breaths tickle my cheek. Her body presses against mine. She snakes her legs around my pelvis, completely cutting off any hopes of escape. We're joined. We're one. I'm a prisoner to her gaze.

Our noses touch. Petra opens her mouth to speak. "Will you be my partner for the tournament? I am wanting to fight alongside you. I am wanting to be... _with you_." The air leaves my lungs at her request. Any closer and her lips will touch with mine.

I can't find it in me to give the approval she's after. I'm overtaken by the heat Petra provides. My heartbeat is a drum louder than raging thunder. My senses are ensnared and I'm unable to break free. Now I know now why I was reluctant to engage her in close combat. Her raw passion is mind-blowing, and she's damn beautiful too. A woman like her is the true definition of how the nobility should act. A beacon to the people she represents. A leader willing to stand tall and fearlessly against all challenges. Not some arrogant retainer without a care for others.

She's everything I wish I could be; everything I'm not.

Finally, my will returns. "I-I was hoping you'd ask. Saves me the trouble. Yes. I'll join you. We're a team. Let's fight for Adrestia."

"Wonderful!" Petra releases my wrists. Our final barrier of personal space is broken; her lips are almost touching mine. "But I am not fighting for Adrestia... My fighting will be for my home, for my people in Brigid. It is my deepest of hoping to send Miss Edelgard a message."

"A message?" I touch Petra by the shoulders. At last she notices of just how damn close we are. She flinches, easing off.

"Can I believe in you? Will protect my secret, Rolan?" She looks scared all of the sudden, very scared. I've never seen her so fearful before.

I'd better assure her. "'Course I will. We're partners from her on out."

"Okay." Petra exhales thankfully. "I am thinking Edelgard plans bad things for your Fodlan people. I am going to be winning this tournament, and with my victory I will declare myself a Black Eagle no more. I will join Professor Byleth's class when the battle is won. Once a Golden Deer I will learn more about Edelgard's wishes of much cruelness. I am having bad feelings. I do not want Fodlan's people to become like mine. Chained."

I can't believe what I've heard.

Edelgard has bad intentions?! If that were the case then why did she offer me a place as a Black Eagle? Why is Hubert so insistent I show my skills?

"You can't be serious... Surely not? It doesn't make sense. Dorothea speaks well of her all the time."

"Her niceness is- How do you say it? Fake. It is fake. I can show you my feelings of badness are true."

Petra untangles her legs from around me and gets up in a hurry. I brush the sand from my clothes and find my feet with a helping hand.

"Come to my room," says Petra swiftly. There is something we should be speaking of."

She barges outside, rushing headlong into the night. "Come. Follow quickly."

I take off in pursuit as best I'm able, ducking and weaving around the last dregs of students dashing for their dorms before curfew. I'm finally able to catch up just as Petra skids to a stop outside of her room. She shoves open the doors before I'm able to steady myself.

"What's this about?!" I ask between heaves of breath, exhausted. "You're-" I wheeze. "You're making me uneasy."

Petra pulls me inside with a berserk's might. I stumble and fall onto an animal skin rug as she lets go. I hear locks clicking and bolts sliding into place amidst my daze. Shaking my head clear, I rise in a hurry and get myself together. "Petra... Come on now... Quit being so serious."

Brigid's princess marches across the room and clamps her hand over my mouth. Having forced my silence, she leans over to whisper in my ear, "I overheard Edelgard in her talkings with Hubert on of one my walks. Your joining with this house is not a thing of goodness. Hubert is wanting you as a spy against the Golden Deer. He is thinking your feelings of love for Dorothea will be helping him learn new things..."

Everything falls into place. Petra lowers her hand so I can answer. "Shit. Are you kidding me?"

She shakes her head. "I am not one with the kidding. I have no clue why Hubert is wanting this, but Edelgard is happy with it."

"When did you overhear them talking? Recently?"

"The day before the yesterday. They were doing much discussing behind the Training Grounds building."

"Goddess help me. I knew it was way too good to be true," I scoff. This is a pain in the arse beyond compare. I've followed my heart only to walk into a bloody ambush. "Great... Just great. They don't want me for my skills. I'm an asset..."

Petra raises a brow; she's confused. "But there is nothing of greatness to celebrate. This is a thing of badness."

"I know; I know. It's sarcasm. Forget it." Stress gets me pacing between the messy bed and the poor wolf decorating the dusty floor. There has to be something I can do before this situation gets out of hand. Heck, if it weren't for Petra warning me I might've opened my mouth and started saying all sorts of things about my Golden Deer classmates without realizing. I'd have given Hubert exactly what he wanted.

I could mention it Dorothea. No. I can't. Scratch that. She's sincere and caring; she'd probably confront Edelgard. That would land us in all sorts of trouble. I can't say a word to Professor Byleth, either. If she were to cast doubt on the situation Petra would end up trapped in the Black Eagles with no way out.

Think, Rolan. Think. There has to be a way around all of this.

I'm grabbed and shaken by the Petra. "You must be keeping calmness." She eyes me with concern. "Listen to me. There is more."

Petra lets me go and drops to her knees. She crawls beneath her bed, rooting around like she's hunting for something. Eventually she re-emerges; her already sticky clothing now covered in dirt to boot. Rising to meet me, I notice a creased piece of white parchment paper between her fingers. She unfolds it (more a worn scrap at a closer look) and drops it into my hands. "Read this, if you would do me kindness," is her sole request.

"Okay," I agree. "Let's take a-" I freeze. The words on the page almost knock me flat.

_'Petra. You've been true to my cause so far. And so, I ask you to make a decision. Soon I will turn my back to the wretched Church of Seiros. Hubert will help me, as will many others. Can I count on you as a loyal servant of Adrestia to rally the warriors of Brigid to my cause? Give me your answer when the time is right. Soon all of my preparations will come to fruition. Edelgard Von Hresvelg - Future Empress of Adrestia'._

I-I can hardly believe what I've read! There's not a chance in hell this is real! "I-I don't understand... Why would she abandon the church?"

"Are you willing to keep trusting me, Rolan?" Petra shakes me again. "Rolan?"

I look through her like she's not even here. A sharp slap to the arm jolts me into painful focus. I give my skin a quick rub to ease the stinging.

"Sorry, Petra. Yes. I trust you, completely. You're one of the most honest and straightforward people here."

"If you are trusting of me then we should go using my plan." I'm tugged into Petra's arms; drawn into an unexpected squeeze. Unexpected but far from displeasing, given how edgy I feel right now. "We will win the tournament and I will be joining the Golden Deer. As a Student of the Professor I might be able to uncover more of the scary things I am fearing about Edelgard..."

It's not a bad idea - not at all. Miss Byleth is a talented woman through and through. Lady Rhea thinks so, too. She wouldn't have allowed our class try and search for clues about Zanado and the mysterious Flame Emperor character otherwise. Sure I wasn't sent on either of those missions, but all the Golden Deer were privy to the gossip. My guess is Petra sees how talented my ex-teacher is and hopes to get help with uncovering whatever Edelgard is planning.

A smart choice. But I'm no less nervous. For one important reason. I'm starting to feel for my new classmate. "You're my friend," I hold her with all of the care and compassion I can spare. "If you get hurt I won't live it down. Swear you'll be careful."

I'm not given the answer I'm expecting. Petra clasps my face with her clammy palms. "I will use much of the caution. I swear on my homeland."

She rises to her tiptoes and plants her lips against my forehead. I'm left stunned, speechless.

Her cheeks flare as she breaks the kiss. "You are a kind person. I am filled with happiness to know you."

"As am I, Princess. As am I." Our course set and the truth out in the open, I break free of Petra. Though not before thanking her honesty with a peck upon the cheek. "Goodnight, my lady. We'll train again soon, and thanks. You've been good to me. I won't forget it."

I leave Petra's dorm shortly afterward with a heavy heart, both blessed and cursed with newfound knowledge.

We've gotta win the upcoming competition no matter the cost. Whatever Edelgard and Hubert are planning can't be good.

**To be continued...**


	7. Unease

Time is passing too quickly for my liking; I wish I had the power to turn the clock around. Every hour I can't spend training is an hour I lose for good. Four days have raced past since Petra revealed the bitter truth of Edelgard's intentions. I've come to realize my joining the Black Eagle house was worthless - aside Dorothea. I'm not needed by anyone; I serve no purpose aside acting as a chess piece on Hubert's board. A bitter fate - one I'll not accept outright.

If all I've worked toward is a lie then I'll do what little I can to make a difference. I'm trapped, true enough - but I can still save Petra from her future as an Adrestian servant. No - I _will_ save her. She's become a fragile guiding light in my darkest hour. She'd save me if she had the means.

I've stuck with her through thick and thin - from the first bell of class until bedtime. We've only parted company to take a much-needed baths or get some sleep. We've trained and trained like we never thought possible. There's not a doubt in my mind if I'd met Petra when I was younger I'd probably be an expert swordsman already. Even better, Hubert is none the wiser. To him we're preparing for a "trivial" tournament.

And with classes almost finished it's nearly time to continue those preparations.

I'm keeping a close watch over the grandfather clock at the front of homeroom. Professor Manuela has talked for nearly an hour about magical aptitude - a useless topic for a guy like me. I'm not Linhardt of Dorothea - put a spell book in my hands and I'll probably burn them to cinders. More harm than good would come of it. Steel is a safer weapon of choice; one I'm well-versed in.

The hands of the clock are inching forwards.

 _Tick_. _Tock_. _Tick_. _Tock_. _Tick_. _Tock_.

Just a minute more and the monastery bells will chime. I'll be free to leave. We have four days left until the tournament. Word has it they'll be posting up the brackets for the first round tomorrow. I need to be prepared for anything; especially if the rules are correct.

Each class has two representatives. Petra and I stand for the Black Eagles. I hear on the grapevine Felix and Miss Mercedes are fighting on behalf of Prince Dimitri and the Blue Lions. What worries me is the lack of knowing who Claude selected from the Golden Deer. So far I've heard nothing - not a peep nor a whisper. Nobody is talking, and I wasn't told a thing before switching classes.

The chime of church bells frees me from my curiosity. At last I can get out of here.

Professor Manuela closes her tome. "That'll be all today my lovely students. I'd recommend those of you intent on taking the advancement tests for a magical school read Scholar Melvin's Book of Tricks; pages seventeen through thirty-four have all the information you'll need."

With classes over plenty of students begin piling out. Edelgard stays behind; as usual she's talking in a hushed tone with Hubert at the front of the room. I wonder what they might be scheming today? Who else are they hoping to manipulate?

Dorothea ruffles my hair, breaking me from my resentment. She wears a kind smile. "A fun class, wasn't it? I'd like to learn some healing spells."

I'd better play the fool; I force a smile too.

"Magic's not my strong point, but it was interesting enough, sure."

"Rolan," the songstress grabs for one of my hands; she ties her fingers with mine. "Let's have dinner in the mess hall. You've been so busy that I've hardly seen you this week." She bats her eyelashes in an attempt to win me over. "I hear they're serving cake for dessert. Let's share a slice."

"Sorry, dearest." As lovely she as idea might be, I don't have the time. "I'm training with Petra again tonight. Any other day I would, but the tournament's so close and all-"

"Of course," says Dorothea with a deep exhale, cutting me off. "I was hoping to spend time you this evening. A girl gets lonely eating dinner by herself after so long." She pulls awat from me and gets to work putting her books in her bag. "You took it to heart when I said you should prove your worth, huh?" There's an icy tinge to her question. "Your training is obviously important."

Dorothea throws her satchel over her shoulder and heads for the door before I'm able to answer. "You're terribly single-minded. If you don't slow down you'll end up exhausted by the week's end." She stops in the doorway, glancing back. Her eyes are watering. " _Have a good evening_." The ice in her voice turns to gloom. "I won't ask again tomorrow. No doubt you're busy..."

Dorothea leaves me on my lonesome. As upset as I am to refuse her, I have little choice.

Petra ducked out of class around the halfway point of Professor Manuela's discussion on healing spells - it's the only time we've separated during class since Monday. She's already starting her warmup at the training grounds; I'd rather not keep her waiting. Today she's teaching me how to best improve my fist-fighting technique. A lesson I can't refuse considering I have to expand my mind when it comes to combat - her words not mine.

I just wish I'd handled the dinner situation using a shred more tact. "Sorry, dearest."

Shaking the thought from mind, I collect up my things and begin on my way across the monastery grounds double quick. Brigid's princess awaits my arrival, and there's no way I can let her down. Unlike mine and Dorothea's future; Petra's hangs in the balance. Winning this tournament is her clearest shot at breaking free. I made a promise to help her. I'm a man of my word when it comes to fighting for my friends.

* * *

I've yet to tire of the training grounds. I feel a welcoming sense of familiarity every time I step through the doors; especially when I'm one of the only people here. I can centre myself; I can focus on the important things. Here I'm not just Rolan - the son of a baker. I'm a man with a mission. I have purpose. I have focus. I've a reason to fight, and fight well. Nothing holds me back.

Or that should be the case, at least.

I can't stop thinking of how sad Dorothea looked when I turned down her offer. Usually I'm able to concentrate when training is afoot. Today I'm distracted, annoyingly so. I take a quiet breath to steady my thoughts. Now isn't the time to lose sight of what's important. I have a goal in mind; my mission is to help a friend in need. Being side-tracked won't do any good.

Petra and I have been scrapping for a good long while. Fist after fist. Blow after blow. For someone shorter than me she hits hard; very hard. Each punch I throw is returned with twice the force. Every successive jab Petra lands hurts more and more. It's getting harder to move, even harder to stand. Brigid fighting is rough; skin to skin and body to body. It's an exhausting brawl in the name of strength.

I have to fight on - no matter the pain.

"That is enough for now." Petra eyes me brightly, lowering her fists. She bows her head; her cheeks are flushed a dark shade of red. My guess is she's tired from all of the time spent preparing for the coming tournament. "You are improving. I have wishes to teach you more in the coming days, but we must have the rest first, Rolan. We will continue after your bruises are gone."

I can't afford to stop, not yet. "Let's keep going," I nurse my sore rib, biting my lip. "I'm fine to go another round."

Petra looks me over with concern. "Are you sure? You are- What is the word? A frown. You are frowning. I see the pain on your face."

I have to keep my eyes on the prize, as Pop would say. "I'll be alright."

Brigid's princess doesn't see it that way. She takes me aside; we sit together on the stone floor beside the arena. I'm too easy to read, and damn do I feel silly for it. I'm here to help Petra, not the other way around. No good will come of her wasting valuable time on me. It doesn't matter if my body aches. There will be time to rest when our usual routine is finished.

"It is better if we are stopping. You are holding your side and your breathing is weak."

"It doesn't matter," I insist. "My issues are petty when compared to yours." I force a smile to ward her off the beaten path. "We're better off getting ready for the tournament instead of chatting." I get to my feet again. "C'mon. Let's train." I wince, gulping a mouthful of air. "I-I can take it."

Petra refuses the hand I offer. "I feel much worry for you, Rolan. Do you see the mirror often? It is not just the frowning, or the pain. Black rings are under your eyes. Your skin shows paleness. I am thinking you need to... What is the saying? Pace yourself?"

I haven't looked in the mirror for a while. I don't dwell on vanity when there's a task at hand. Sure, I feel a bit on the groggy side, but that's completely normal. No - it's to be expected, even. There's no rest for the wicked. If I'm to do right by Petra I have to work hard for the both of us. "I'll manage just fine... Everyone feels under the weather from time to time."

"I am not believing you. When did you last have the good sleeps?"

She's got me. I don't have an answer she'll be pleased with - not a truthful one. I hang my head, bested. "I'm napping between classes; it keeps my energy up. Lounging in bed wastes too much time. Look, it's not an issue; I can still fight."

Petra gets to her feet. "You cannot - you are barely standing."

A light shove from the girl sees me wobble and fall.

My exhausted body collides with the sands of the arena. I curl into a ball - defeated soundly. I barely have the strength to get to my knees - let alone brush my shirt down. Petra towers over me; her point well and truly made. She pulls me up; I lean on her for support. "You are working too hard," she says, sweeping me into a caring hug. "I saw the same before you're leaving the Golden Deer. You treat all tasks with pride... but you are never stopping."

"There's no choice now I know Edelgard's plans. My place in the Black Eagles is hollow - worthless. But that doesn't mean I can't help you get free. It's the least I can do. From one outsider to another." The latter part of what she said finally clicks into place. "And what do you mean 'you saw the same'? Were you watching me before I changed houses?"

Petra blushes violently. "What I am meaning to say is-" She flounders. The unusually shy look on her face speaks volumes.

There were several moments when I first joined Garreg Mach where I felt somebody watching me. It usually happened when I trained by myself in the early hours of the morning. Back then nobody bothered talking to me; I hadn't reconnected with Hilda or spoken to Dorothea for the first time. Yet the feeling persisted, sunrise after sunrise. In the end I pushed it from my mind, but not completely.

"You _were, weren't you_?"

Petra holds me even tighter, laying her head of long and braided hair against my chest. "I saw you were alone, much like me. Before our first meeting I was wanting to approach you, but I felt much fear. I was afraid you would see me as a foreign girl of Brigid, not a real person... I feared you would shun me."

Her admission is sharper than a knife to the stomach; I'm fighting tears. To think - this talented and beautiful lassie wanted to be my friend for all this time. She kept away because of fear I'd judge her for something she has no control over. She couldn't be more wrong about me if she tried, and hopefully she's able to see it now. But just to be sure, I'll tell her why I value her friendship.

"Where you come from doesn't bother me; I respect you for it. You carry the weight of an entire country, and yet you never back down, Petra. You're a woman to admire; headstrong - I've never seen you panic under stress. You're everything I hope to become as a warrior."

My honesty earns me a surprised gasp. Petra's blinks once, and twice. "T-Truly? You are serious about the things you say? You are not telling lies?" I feel her fingers sink into my back; her nails are sharp. She inches nearer; the heat of her body rewards me a pleasing shudder.

"I'm serious. Why'd you reckon I come here for practice? I walked into a trap by joining a new house, but there's still hope for you to get out. I won't rest easy knowing you're Edelgard's servant; you deserve far better. I-I can't leave Dorothea behind, but you? You can earn your freedom... I want to help you. I'll fight at your side, like a real swordsman..."

"You will-" Petra squeaks. "You will fight with me?"

"With my life if need be." It's the only way I'll prove to myself I'm worthwhile. There's no better way to show I'm cut out to be a soldier. "That's what friends are for, Petra. They look out for one-another; defend each-other from harm."

"I am filled with gladness knowing you feel this way. My feelings are the same, Rolan." Petra releases me from her embrace. She motions toward the door with a glance. "Will you take a walk with me?"

"Of course, though let's no wander too far. I'm still sore." I find my own two feet as best I can.

My many knocks and scuffs will hurt even more come sunrise.

* * *

I leave the training grounds with my trusted friend at my side. We begin on a long walk past the ground floor dormitories. I hold am arm around my middle to ward off the nip in the air. The sun has long since set and there's hardly any students around. One or two are coming and going from the bathhouse, but most have returned to their rooms by now. It won't be too long until the curfew bell rings. I'll be mindful to return to my dorm before then.

Petra leads me to the monastery's renowned fishing spot. She steps out onto the boardwalk and gazes outward to the water. A youthful moon is rising; its light paints a beautiful reflection against the water's surface. "It is a pleasing sight here. I am wanting to see more things like this in Fodlan." Despite her hopeful words she sounds sad. "But I am feeling fear for the beautiful things. If Edelgard angers the church the peace might end."

She's right. Lady Rhea is far from forgiving of anybody who steps out of line. I've heard the stories from my former classmates in the Golden Deer. There have been a few times where the Archbishop has sent Professor Byleth to deal with zealots who've strayed from the goddesses' teachings.

A tear rolls down Petra's cheek, something I never thought I'd see. She turns away from me in a bid to hide her face. "You must be forgiving of me. There is something in my eye..." Her shoulders stiffen and her breaths become shaky.

I pat her on the back for comfort. "Are you sure-"

She turns around again - fragile and unguarded. Her eyes quiver.

"What's wrong?" I ask kindly, resting both hands upon Petra's shoulders.

"I am feeling much regret for telling you of Hubert and Edelgard's plannings; you are working too hard. I should be the one who is stopping them. It is my responsibility as a woman of Brigid. Adrestia has treated my people unkindly too many times."

"Like I'll let you face this alone. It's too dangerous. I don't matter here; I'm unimportant. But you? People need you."

Petra sighs in response. "Rolan... Why do you not respect yourself? You talk with sadness about your life. You are a Black Eagle now. Your wish is granted. Are you not happy? Does being in Garreg Mach not make you feel gladness?"

A lady as intelligent as she is beautiful. There's no hiding anything from her, clearly. She deserves to hear how I feel. Who knows? Maybe being honest with her will help me come to terms with the situation I find myself in. "I thought I was free... I figured so long as I could get the money to stay here I'd have no worries. I was an idiot for being so short-sighted. Now I'm stuck in the middle of something way bigger than me."

Carrying the secret of Edelgard's intentions feels like having a lead weight sitting in the pit of my stomach. And knowing I'm here as little more than a glorified pawn is even worse. I'm a common nobody all over again, and just when I hoped I'd become somebody, too. What hurts most is that I cannot speak a word of this to Dorothea; it's not safe. There's no easy road ahead, only danger awaits.

"You can abandon me if you are wanting to be free of worries. I will not hate you for it."

"Not a chance. I hurt Hilda when I left the Golden Deer. I won't do the same twice."

"Thanking you with niceness; I have gratefulness" Petra's holds her hands against my face. "I am only hoping Dorothea will forgive me."

"F-Forgive you," I whisper, my heart is pounding all of the sudden. She's close - so close that her breaths make my skin tingle. "What for?"

"Women of my country speak with actions when they are in love..."

Petra leans in and presses her lips to mine - with fire and ferocity. She trembles with vigor.

I'm melting - despite the urge to pull away. I surrender to the whims of the princess, returning her gesture. My arms find their way around her slim waist. Our embrace becomes a tussle - fearsome and untamed - though not out of hunger. I feel love unending in Petra's arms. Kiss after kiss follows. I'm left exhausted when I'm finally released. My head is light; it's like I'm floating on a cloud.

Petra takes short breaths to steady herself, breaking our silence.

A battle rages within me - a war between bliss and guilt. I trace my fingers over my lips. "We shouldn't have," I whisper

"I have no regrets with the kissing. You do it well."

My cheeks burn from her compliment. "I-I-" My voice cracks. I can't stay here. "See you tomorrow Petra. I'll sleep, and then we'll train."

I pull away to make my retreat. Petra snags my wrist before I'm able to leave. "I do not know the Fodlan words to speak... but I will always be caring about you - even if the feelings of love you have belong to another..." I'm released from her grip - free to depart. "I am wishing good sleep to you, Rolan."

"You too - you too..."

* * *

I break my usual rules on vanity when I return to my dorm. Petra's actions tonight gave me pause for thought. I'm fixated upon the mirror.

"I can't look as tired as she says."

My brown eyes are droopy. My skin is paler than the norm and my lengthy hair of black is messier than usual. I'm tall and slim with sharp features and a strong jaw. My body is toned from many hours of sword practice. My looks betray those of a commoner working hard days - but my creased uniform and scuffed blazer jacket leave much to the imagination. Okay, maybe Petra's right. I'm untidy around the edges.

But there's little time to pause. Every time I do I'm reminded of Hubert and Edelgard. My blood simmers thinking about them.

I clench my fists; rage overtakes me. "I'm not gonna be the pawn of some noble!"

No - this isn't the way. I've gotta to keep calm and show some faith.

The letter Petra showed me proves Adrestia's frustration with the followers of Seiros. Rhea won't take chances. Plenty of believers and people with influence will see reason enough to act in defence of the church. The Goddess Sothis is worshipped by lowborn and highborn alike. Edelgard will be forced to confess her sins, and Brigid will earn its freedom. It's just a case of who acts first.

I steady myself, cooling my fury with a deep breath in and out. Dorothea can never find out about any of this, whatever happens. I don't care if she's angry with me for it. Her safety is the only thing that matters. I've betrayed her with a kiss, even if she doesn't know it. It falls to me to do the right thing.

I clench my fist tightly, holding it over my beating heart. "I'm behind you, Petra. I only wish I wasn't so powerless."

A knock against the door makes me flinch. I head on over and slide the deadbolt loose before, slipping on my shoes when I'm done. "Who is it?"

"It is Hubert. Open the door. We must speak regarding a matter of the utmost importance."

There's no mistaking the cold aloofness of that voice. It's him alright - but he sounds flustered. Upon bringing the door wide I see it as well. Is usual calmness is nowhere to be found - replaced with a hint of nervy agitation. It's what he says next that stuns me the most.

"I realize you are new to our house, but I will ask all the same. Have you seen or conversed with Lady Edelgard at any point since sunset?"

"Not once." I shake my head. I don't make a hobby of spending time with folks who use me. "Why?"

Hubert snarls under his breath, his composure cracks. "Then my unease is justified. You were the last one to be asked." He grabs me by the scruff of my collar and pulls me out into the cold. "Come, quickly. If you are to earn your place as a Black Eagle then you will do so now - tonight."

I keep pace with Hubert, if only out of an urge to punch him for being so rude. "I'd like a bloody apology before I go anywhere with you."

"Silence," he speaks coldly, leering back at me. His deathly glare makes my skin skitter. "We are gathering a small search party. Edelgard is missing."

"Missing?" My feet stall at the news. "You're not serious, right?" Edelgard Von Hresvelg never goes anywhere unattended.

"Did I stutter?" shoots Hubert with bitterness, walking on ahead. "She ventured into town with a guard detail of my choosing, insistent on being without my supervision on this one occasion. Neither she nor her soldiers have returned. I suspect foul play."

I pick up the pace and re-join Hubert. We make our way to the Black Eagle homeroom. Dorothea awaits us there with tall orange-haired and handsome fellow. I've spoken with him in passing since joining the Black Eagles. His name is Ferdinand - Ferdinand Von Aiger. He's the son of Adrestia's Prime Minister.

Hubert heaves the doors closed with my help. We join the others.

"Just the four of us, Hubie?" asks Dorothea, rising from her seat at a bench near the front of the room. She hurries over to my side.

"Yes - four will suffice until I ascertain the nature of our current circumstances. Every second wasted gathering more hands is a further second Edelgard's life may be in danger. Do not concern yourself with my reasoning; I have called the three of you here because you are above reasonable suspicion."

"Wait," Ferdinand scoffs, flashing me an accusing glance. He narrows his eyes and I stare him back. "He's above suspicion?"

"Stop it Ferdie." Dorothea stands to my defence. She sparks up a tiny warning fireball; it fizzles within her grasp. " _Be nice_."

"Easy there Dorothea." He eases off. "I didn't say I'd hurt anyone. I'm ever the well-bred gentleman."

Content, she extinguishes her sizzling fingers. "Good."

"Settle yourself, Ferdinand," remarks Hubert. "He is a newcomer with almost no knowledge of our house, while you and Dorothea were clueless as to mine Edelgard's plans today. Petra too was with the Golden Deer Transfer, and likewise uninformed. Three of the men I assigned to this task were of House Bergliez - while two were Lady Rhea's subordinates - supporters of the Saint Seiros. The three Bergliez soldiers were found by my agents at dusk by the waterfront - dead."

Ferdinand snaps his fingers. He whistles as if he's impressed. "I get it. You suspect the church."

A frozen twinge runs down my spine. Why would followers of Lady Rhea kill Adrestian-born soldiers? The Church of Seiros is peaceful.

"We must hurry," decrees Hubert. "Ferdinand - unbar the door. The four of us will depart for town and search. Forget curfew. This is official business."

It isn't long before our small group leaves through the hefty portcullis of Garreg Mach's inner fort. Hubert and Ferdinand lead, while Dorothea and I provide support from the rear. A far larger fireball than before roars in her outstretched palm; its orange glow cuts through the evening murk.

I'm dwelling on something Hubert said earlier.

" _The three Bergliez soldiers were found by my agents at dusk by the waterfront - dead_. _"_

Something here is amiss. I can understand hunting heretics, but why would Knights of Seiros kill without need? Rhea is stern - but she's not murderer... is she? No - she can't be. Professor Byleth wouldn't be so close to her if that were the case. I have a jittery feeling in my stomach all of the sudden. First there was the letter Edelgard sent Petra, and now this.

I'm glad I brought a sword with me before leaving the monastery. Hopefully I won't need it.

"Rolan," Dorothea slows to match my steps. Her face falls; she furrows her brow out of concern. "Are you feeling alright, love?"

I stick extra close to her, drawing my blade - just to be safe. "Fine - but keep by my side."

She smirks. "You can put that thing away. Who's the one holding magical fire in her hand?"

Sadly I'm not all too reassured. "It's staying out - we'll be safer. I can get up close and strike before you cast another."

"You're no fun Rolan..."

"We have arrived." Hubert stops us at the bottom of the hill which separates the town and the monastery. "Ferdinand, you will come with me. Dorothea, take Rolan. We will search every inch. Leave no stone unturned or corner unchecked. Let us meet by the inn in the middle of town just before midnight. We will stay the night if need demands, and call in the the military at dawn. Edelgard absolutely did not come home; she is here somewhere."

"Right you are." Ferdinand salutes.

Orders provided, Dorothea and I start our search. "We'll let you know if we find anything, Hubie."

Our mission takes us high and low, past quiet rows of houses and through grubby alleyways. A few muscle-bound thugs caused us trouble out front of a grungy of a tavern, but a quick spell scared them off right quick. The longer we search, the more I on edge I feel. One of Ferdinand's earlier comments returns to me.

" _I get it. You suspect the church."_

When return to the monastery I'll ask Petra to hold off on handing her letter to the Archbishop.

Maybe I'm paranoid, but one of Fodlan's most well-protected individuals shouldn't just vanish.

** To be continued... **


	8. Zealots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to thank you all for reading so far. It's been a real pleasure bringing this story to you all. I hope you're enjoying it so far and I really appreciate all of the time you've taken to read it. Let's keep going, shall we?

For most of the night I've dwelled on our situation.

The Church of Seiros is kind and generous. They provide shelter for unfortunate souls without homes - they care for orphans and those who've been robbed of family. Young Cyril is a prime example - an urchin with nothing and nobody. Until Lady Rhea found him he was all alone in the world. The young lad does nothing but heap boundless praise upon the Church. He works tirelessly day after day in thanks for his second chance at life.

He's content with his simple but hardworking lot - happy, even.

And yet I can't scrub what Ferdinand said from my thoughts.

" _I get it. You suspect the church."_

The followers of Seiros can't possibly be misguided... can they?

For all of our sakes, I sure hope not.

Whatever the case, it's important I calm down and keep a level head. There's work to do.

Edelgard is still nowhere to be found.

The midnight hour has long since passed. We returned to the inn and spoke with Hubert and Ferdinand. While the two of them rented a room and turned in for the night, Dorothea insisted she keep searching - until dawn if that was what it took. Not wanting to leave her alone on a dark night such as this, I followed suit. For hours Dorothea and I have scoured Garreg Mach's township for any sign of Princess Edelgard. We've gone from home to home - tavern to tavern. We've spoken to dozens of people - from barmaids to retired soldiers. Nobody has seen any church knights or a missing noble. And so, we kept on.

Sadly, our journey into yet another smoke-filled drinking den brought little in the way of results.

Dorothea bids the patrons farewell from the doorway with a grateful bow. "Thank you anyway. Do enjoy your evenings."

The moon sits high in the sky as we exit the dirty venue. Pale lunar light provides some much-needed illumination to the murky backstreets as we continue our long-winded mission. Dorothea is worn out from talking so much. I stall for her sake - she needs to catch her breath, or I fear she'll fall over. I've mever seen her like this before. Her eyes are droopy and her clothes are creased - not to mention she reeks of smoke from the countless flea pits we've visited.

"We can pause if you like, love," I offer, patting her upon the shoulder. "There's no sense in burning yourself out."

"Not just yet. I can," she yawns. "...still keep going."

"Are you sure? Save some energy for our trek back to the inn. It wouldn't hurt to take a rest - get your bearings. I can wait."

"There's no need. I-I'm fine. Just a tiny bit tired - that's all. And besides..." Dorothea pats her face in a bid rouse herself. "...I can't stop - not while Edie's still out here somewhere."

"But you're exhausted, Dorothea. Even Hubert took a rest - _Hubert._ "

"And I'll bet he's still worried sick. Look, Rolan... Would you give up if Hilda were the one missing?"

My stomach plunges at the thought.

I hang my head, well and truly bested. "Okay, you have a point..."

"Exactly." Dorothea makes a grab for my hand. Her sudden contact quickens my heartbeat. I gaze upward to find her staring at me with love - with vigor. "I appreciate your concern. But let's keep on going... just a little longer." I hear the strain in her voice. I see the emotion in her gaze. "If we don't find her before long we'll return to the inn - I promise. One more hour. If we have no luck... we'll get some sleep."

Adrestia's princess seems well-loved by her classmates, despite all I've heard from Petra.

Sighing, I put away my sword - so that we may continue walking hand-in-hand. "Edelgard means a lot to you, doesn't she?"

"Indeed she does," Dorothea replies with a glassy smile, linking her fingers with mine. "I suppose you could say-" She stalls, red-faced and nervous all of the sudden. "No - it's nothing. ...Forget I said anything."

"Doesn't sound like 'nothing'. What's the matter, dearest?" We continue ahead, down a sidestreet - mindful of anything out of the ordinary. It wouldn't be the first time tonight we've tangled with ruffians. "You know I'll always listen if you need me... It's the least I could do, after all you've done for me."

"Thanks, Rolan..." Dorothea smirks a sheepish smirk. "Okay, I'll share what's on my mind." She pauses, taking a sharp breath. "What would you say if I told you I like men and women? In truth... when I met Edie I kind of... had a tiny crush on her."

Dorothea's admission is a touch surprising, but nothing too wild.

"You're like my elder sister then," I answer with a chuckle. "She was the same. Don't fret; I'm not gonna take issue."

"Oh..." Dorothea's eyes widen. "Really?"

"I'm serious. Sis had a lady lover, before she married some washed up noble. Anna, she was called - a merchant girl. Pop was quite fond of her actually, even though my Ma was a touch old-fashioned about that sorta stuff." I smile warmly at the memory. "Made for some fun chats at the dinner table, I tell you."

Dorothea sighs with relief. Her expression brightens the smallest bit. "Glad to hear it," she grins. "Knowing that, I'm even fonder of your father."

Now there's a surprise. "You're okay with the Old Man?"

"Of course; he's lovely. You're lucky, Rolan. I would've treasured what you have, growing up with a father... and a mother..."

Talk of family has Dorothea looking gloomy. "Hey... Don't be sad." I lean close and peck her cheek. "Once we're wed, my family becomes yours too. I'm sure there's nothing Pop would like more than to welcome you into our home. Cheer up."

Her frown fades away. "You're right; I don't know what came over me." Dorothea kisses me back. "I have plenty to look forward to. Being a part of a family will be wonderful - almost as lovely as making my own, someday..." There's allure to her voice, " _Someday_..." Her cheeks glow a deep shade of pink.

I inch closer to kiss her again. "But of course..."

I'm cut off by the sound of a weapon being pulled from its scabbard. My passions cool - replaced by shiver of alertness.

The glint of polished steel resonate against the moonlight's shine. Something, or someone waits in the alleyway ahead of us.

Producing my sword, I step in front of Dorothea - intent on keeping her same from all harm.

A figure emerges from the darkness. A man - he's tall in stature and adorned in the hefty, well-polished plate mail of a Knight of Seiros. His hair is wavy and greyed, while his face is gaunt and pale. A scar trails from the left corner of his forehead past his milky coloured and sightless left eye.

He advances a step, a second, a third. "I saw the two of you asking questions in the pub - questions about Princess von Hresvelg." He takes his sword into both hands and frowns deeply, tightening his stare. "Turn back now," he warns. "You're interfering in business of the Western Church. This is the only chance I'll give. Heed it... if you know what's good for you."

"The Western Church?" I question. "Last I'd heard, Lady Rhea branded you lot as heathens against the teachings."

The knight bellows with laughter. He's unhinged; there's madness behind his eyes. "Fool! How little you know of our world. Rhea and her ilk cannot be trusted. She is not a true icon of Divine Lady Sothis - just as the Hresvelg brat is a danger to us all."

Dorothea scoffs. "Sounding a bit too zealous there, aren't we?" she rolls her eyes. "I'll take it you killed Edie's guards?"

"Be silent, child. You know nothing of what is truly afoot here. The Bergliez men were mere pawns to those of ill-intent... just as you are."

"Ill-intent? Says the zealot threatening students." Falling in at my side, Dorothea sparks up a fireball in her open palm. "Nope - I don't quite fancy backing down to the likes of you. You know we're searching, so you must have some clue about what's happened to Edie." She widens her palm, causing the flame within to roar white-hot - alive with ferocity. "So... how about you tell us where she is? I'd hate to burn you without a good reason."

The knight falls into a battle-ready position, the hilt of his zweihander blade gripped tightly. "You walk the path of a mindless serf, blind to the truth. But I shall awaken you... both of you. Come, my friends. Aid me against these nonbelievers."

A pair of chainmail clad spearmen step out from the darkness behind the Western Church Knight. Together, They stand guard over him, as though awaiting orders. "Aye, Sir Gregory. As you wish," one of them answers, twirling his spear in presentation.

"Shit," I curse in a whisper. "We're outnumbered..." A nervy jitter squeezes my stomach. I glance toward Dorothea, there's fury in her eyes. Meanwhile, I'm held in place with worry. I have to do the right thing here. I can't see her in danger. "Turn tail and retreat, darling," I speak in a low voice. "Return to the inn - wake Hubert and Ferdinand. Hurry - I'll keep these three busy while you go."

"Like heck I will," Dorothea refuses flat out. "I'm won't let you play the hero... This is serious; you'll be killed..."

"Got a better suggestion? Nobody will know what's happened here tonight if we don't emerge the victors... Dorothea, listen," I petition, with desperation to my voice. Every second I waste sees the spear wielding-soldiers advancing. "I'm not perfect, I know. But you have to trust in me. Let me do right by you."

"But I-"

"Please, sweetheart..."

She exhales painfully, "...Okay, but at least let me help first."

Dorothea shoves me aside and lobs her fireball with a powerful shout. The sphere of magical energy explodes in the face of a spearman. He crumples to the floor in a screaming heap, clutching his hands over his burning, steaming skin.

Having done her part, Dorothea steals a kiss of my lips and takes off running, "Don't die on me, Rolie!"

"I won't." I take up a defensive position to cover her escape. "Not a chance..."

The second spearman rushes me with a gruff shout. He thrusts his spear toward my chest. I sidestep and narrowly evade with a moment to spare. Sucking in a mouthful of air and heaving out, I move swiftly to counter attack. I use nimble footwork to duck around the point of the spear and take a wide swing of my steel sword. The edge of my weapon slices into my foe's lethand side. He crumbles to his knees in a sharp, painful shout. Wasting no time, I give him a blunt bash to the side of his head with my sword's hilt.

He falls to the floor with a clunk. A small puddle of red forms beneath his midsection.

Adrenaline courses through my body - it sustains me. I say a quiet prayer for my fallen foe.

Focused anew, I eye my final enemy. Gregory - The Western Church Knight.

His face twists with anger. "Heathen," he hisses through clenched, crooked teeth. "To fell Sothis' true faithful is unforgivable." With an empowered shout he charges - unrestrained. "I'll drag you before my comrades for this. You'll die beside your Adrestian princess!" He takes a mighty swing of his two-handed sword. "Goddess Sothis... grant me the will to fight in your exalted name!"

I leap back and evade, but my footing doesn't hold. Upon landing I trip over one of the felled spearmen, stumbling and hitting my back against the stone cobbles with a bone-jarring thump. Pain shoots through my lower back, reaching all the way to my shoulders. Yelling out, I drop my blade and suck in an agonizing breath. My vision skews as I attempt to rise. The first attempt fails. The second is successful - barely.

I grab my sword and prepare to fight - despite being hobbled by my fall.

By the time I'm ready, I'm cornered. Gregory is already upon me. He rams the hilt of his sword into my stomach, knocking the wind from my sails.

My legs wobble. My eyesight leaves me like a snuffed-out candle. Moment by moment my strength is failing.

Unable to go on any longer, I collapse to my knees and curl into a small, broken ball.

I'm haunted by the bellowing of Gregory's laughter. One by one, my senses unravel.

The last thing I hear him say fills me with dread - with regret.

"We'll make an example out of you, and the Adrestian witch..."

"D-Dorothea," I rasp. "Please... be safe." There's a horrible tinge of blood in my mouth. Holding my stomach, I spit red and crumple against the cobblestones. Blackness overtakes my vision. I can't move anymore. "Dammit all." Defeated, my consciousness fades. "D-Damn you, Gregory..."

**To be continued...**


	9. Edelgard

I hear a voice calling out to me. It's weak and distant - almost an echo.

"... _ake up. Rolan, answer if-"_

The voice of a woman - though her words are distorted.

" _Rolan, I need you to wake up..."_

My senses are returning, one by one.

I left out a hefty breath. Two. Three.

My head pounds like a drum. There's a dull, throbbing in the back of my skull.

"Rolan, if you hear me then please answer."

There it is - that voice again. I know it - it's unmistakable. Edelgard. Lady Edelgard! I try to move, but can't. My hands and feet are tied by what I can only imagine are ropes. The bindings around my wrists are so tight that they sting.

I inhale and exhale deeply, finding the means to speak at last. "...I hear you." My throat is sore.

"Thank goodness. You had me somewhat concerned. Open your eyes for me, if you're able."

I oblige Edelgard's request. I'm met by an unknown room - a storage room of sorts. It's narrow; with a low ceiling. More a box than anything. The white paint upon the walls is faded and grubby with muck and dirt. There are no windows, either. Across from me sit a pair of aged wooden barrels. There's a faint whiff of wine in their general direction. Atop the left one sits a pair candles. One of them is freshly lit, while the other is burned about halfway down. I hone in sight upon the two flickering flames, taken by a raging question.

"Where in the heck are we?"

"I am as ill-informed as you, unfortunately," answers Edelgard.

I turn my head in the direction of her voice. I find her sitting a half foot or so away. Any nearer and we'll be shoulder to shoulder. Edelgard appears far from her well-presented self. She's dressed in clothing of the lowest commoner, a faded brown tunic - the stuff worn by lowly beggars in the streets. The item is dirty and a size too big; it's practically hanging off. Her skin is tarnished; there's a deep scratch across one of her cheeks, and dark purple bruises are all over her exposed arms and legs.

Seeing a woman so badly mistreated makes my blood boil. I have issues with hers and Hubert's motives, yes - but nobody deserves to be handled in such a manner. Especially a member of the fairer sex. "What did they do-"

Edelgard clears her throat loudly, rendering me silent.

"Nothing with weight enough to break my will, I assure you." Edelgard blushes furiously upon noticing how intently I'm looking at her. "Though I would kindly request you be a gentleman and not stare. These filthy items of clothing are... lacking in modesty."

A lump forms in my throat. My heart kicks at double pace. I quickly notice why Edelgard is so adamant. Her bosom is almost entirely on show. "O-Of course. My apologies, Milady." I avert my gaze quickly, eternally sorry for the situation we find ourselves in. "Honestly, I hadn't noticed."

"It cannot be helped," Edelgard grumbles. "Those deranged brutes stripped me of my personal effects upon throwing me in here. Clothing, money, my weapons - everything I had. Truth be told... I am beginning to lose sense of time locked in here."

"My deepest apologies for the way you've been treated, Lady-"

" _Edelgard_ ," she says sternly. "Just 'Edelgard' will do fine for the time being. We're not in the monastery, clearly. And I am far from at my best. Speak on equal terms with me - I'm fine with it."

"If you insist."

"I do, Rolan," she forces a weak smile. "You're one of my classmates now - an Adrestian."

I feel a twinge of hostility. It quickly cools on account of our trappings. "Thank you..."

I keep quiet for a while, dwelling upon mine and Edelgard's current situation. I've not been robbed of my clothing like her, save my school jacket. My sword and my knife are both gone. I look over our prison of sorts from corner to corner. I see my missing coat. It sits carelessly discarded by the doorway. My knife rests atop it - still sheathed. If only I could get over there somehow. I'd have the means to get us out of here.

"The knife?" Edelgard speaks, having followed my eyes to the same place. "I already tried, long before you awoke. I can't move while bound like this."

"Dammit... Stupid zealots," I snap. "I swear, they're taunting us..."

"It is indeed an irritation." There's disdain in the princess' tone. "But we must strive to make the best of our situation."

I'm not so optimistic. "Such as?"

"We both yet live. And my meeting you here means Hubert has set to work organizing my rescue. Am I correct?"

"Got it in one, Lady-" I stall - manners in the presense the nobility being a force of habit. "He set up a search party. There was myself, Hubert; Dorothea and Ferdinand. Dorothea and I were busy scouring Garrag Mach's backstreets, when we were jumped by some loony idiot. He claimed he was from the Western Church. Sir Gregory," I seethe as I recount his name.

"Ah," Edelgard nods with understanding. "So that's how you came to be here. You too were bested by the fanatic."

"Correct. I held off his men so Dorothea could get away. Hopefully she reached Hubert in time and told him what happened... He and Ferdinand were resting at a nearby inn." I feel foolish for having been captured. I'm a skilled swordsman. I should've been able to hold my own better. "...If only I'd managed more."

"It is your intentions which count, Rolan." Again Edelgard smiles, this time with warmth. "Any lesser man would've retreated in the face of danger. The fact you stood and fought is proof enough of your character. Your love for Dorothea prevailed. I imagine it's why thinks so highly of you."

Part of me wonders if Edelgard's praise is part of some ploy, or truly heartfelt. I close my eyes again instead of gracing her with a response. I rest my head against the cold, mould dampened wall behind me. "Maybe..." I exhale deeply. "I just hope she's alright."

"Dorothea is bright and resourceful - one of our finest. She will succeed; I have faith in her."

"I know you're right... _I hope you're right_."

The thought of those church morons manhandling Dorothea makes my skin crawl. I care little for my wellbeing by comparison.

Fearful, I hold off from speaking any further. A fair amount of time passes in silence.

The temperature is starting to drop. I'm guessing it's nightfall outside. Edelgard and I shuffle nearer to one-another out of desire to keep warm. No words are spoken between the two of us to justify it. I do however, notice a pink shine to her cheeks on account of our closeness. My guess is Adrestia's future ruler doesn't get too friendly with others, given her role of leadership. Both physically and emotionally. I get the same impression from lots of the noble folk.

They always seem far away from us everyday people. It's strange, now I think about it. I always get a vibe of aloofness from the highborn. But when it comes down to it... are we any different in times like these? Being bound and trapped? We're on equal terms here - for better or worse.

"Edelgard..." I speak quietly, softly. "Can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead. I'd appreciate the conversation at present."

"Why did you let me to join the Black Eagles? Was it purely for Dorothea's sake?"

"...Not entirely," the princess replies. "It's ironic that you ask, given where we find ourselves..."

"What are you getting at?"

Edelgard stares into my eyes long and hard. She appears troubled, like she's locked in deep thought. She sighs deeply after a while. "Rolan." Her gaze narrows somewhat. "What I am about to tell you must remain a secret between us. Are we understood?"

There's stony seriousness to her voice. I dare not say no. "Perfectly." I nod.

There has to be a reason for all of this church business. Edelgard wouldn't be held captive otherwise. First there was her letter to Petra, and now her being snatched by the Western branch of Seiros' followers. I have to know the truth.

"Very well, but know I will hold you to such an agreement, always." Edelgard shuffles away an inch or two to reclaim a fraction of personal space. She gazes at the floor, exhaling. "The Order of Seiros is tainted - both its knights and its leadership. For years untold Rhea has controlled her flock and her followers through talk of faith, and she murders anyone who breaks from Seiros' teachings. You've seen it for yourself. We all have."

As much as I want to look the other way, as much as I want to deny Rhea's iron fist - I can't any longer. I've gone too deep.

"Yeah... I've seen it, alright. You'd have to be an idiot to miss it." I've been in denial too long. No longer.

Edelgard frowns. "Such brutality is why I began investigating the followers of Seiros," she explains. "Both Rhea's branch and those of the Western Church are divided. A religious war is brewing... and the common people will suffer for it. We will all suffer for it."

"And I tie into this how, exactly?"

"The Professor, Rolan. Surely you have noticed how close she has gotten to Rhea in recent weeks and months."

It's hard to miss. Miss Byleth reports directly to the Archbishop, sometimes more frequently than the other teachers. "Yes, I'd noticed."

"Then I'll tell you plainly. My plan," Edelgard begins, pausing for a short breath. "Was to gradually explain my doubts about the church to you over time. My eyes and ears in the Golden Deer house informed me you are not a devout follower. I had intended to ask for your support - for you to keep a close eye on the Professor from time to time. For her protection - for her safety..."

All Petra's talk of my being a spy finally makes sense. Edelgard has been trying to dissuade her friends from the teachings of Seiros because of the dangerous unrest within. The faith is becoming fractured. Rhea is becoming paranoid, and her abuses of power are becoming frightful. Edelgard isn't my enemy, or an enemy to Petra. She's trying to save us - both of us.

I shift my gaze towatd my lap; I'm too ashamed to look the girl in the eye. "...You'll have to forgive me. I've made a grave mistake."

Edelgard looks to me with concern. "A mistake?"

"I'm naturally careful of highborn folk like yourself. I feared you had bad intentions... I was wrong."

And yet, despite my disgust, she is far from unhappy. She's appears cheerful. Genuinely so. Edelgard chuckles at me. "I had expected as much. I knew as much, even. The way you stared at Hubert and I from across the room made it rather obvious."

"W-Wait. You knew how I felt? And you weren't bothered by it?"

"No, Rolan." Edelgard replies, shaking her head. "I welcome my friends and classmates to voice their doubts and disagreements. To mindlessly follow one's leadership without discourse is... unhealthy. All are welcome to raise concerns in my house - both the nobility and our handful of commoners."

All of the malice and discontent I've been feeling over recent days is melting away. My heart is lighter. I feel invigorated, despite the trappings in which I find myself. "Thank you," I tell reply. "From the bottom of my heart."

"I don't require gratitude. But you are most welcome."

"No... I mean it, Edelgard. I'll do my best to repay you, provided we get out of here."

"I am sure you will. And speaking of which..." The princess leans upon my shoulder for leverage. With time and effort she manages to slip loose her hand bindings, having clearly tried to force them many times before my arrival. Her wrists are rubbed raw, bloody even - but she's no longer constrained. Exhausted from the sheer amount of effort taken, she slumps against my shoulder.

"G-Got it..." She stays put - in the name of steadying herself. A thin sheen of sweat mists her face from such intense exertion.

"Take your time," I tell her kindly, silently enjoying the comfort of her closeness.

Edelgard doesn't take long to recover. Eyes on my knife, she starts crawling across the floor. I avert my gaze all the while - out of respect. Her bare behind is on show, one of the many unfortunate downsides of her being forced to wear such nasty rags. She reclaims the weapon and pulls it from the sheath. Leaning forwards, she makes short work of the ropes around her ankles. Finally free, she stretches her arms outward, getting a feel for being upright again.

Not wasting waste a second, the princess heads my way. Kneeling before me, she cuts me free as well. "There you go."

"Good. Thanks." I too find my footing, locking eyes with the exit ahead of us.

There's a sudden rush of blood to my head - doubtless because I've been sat for what is probably a very long time. Dizzied, I topple.

But Edelgard catches me before I fall. "I have you." She holds me upright. "Be careful." Her tone is surprisingly gentle compared to the norm.

My face heats on account of our closeness. So does hers.

We're distracted by the metal clank of footsteps. They're distant, but gradually becoming louder.

"A guard," says Edelgard. She breaks off from me in a hurry, hiding behind the door. "Get ready..."

I double back and snatch one of the candles - the larger of the two. The footfalls are coming closer and closer all the while.

Before long, they stop. My heart almost stops with them. Beyond the door I hear the jangle of keys - the latch lock clicks several times.

The door swingings open with squeaking hinges. An armoured knight stands in the doorway. He steps inside. He turns and sees me standing to his right; his eyes widen in alarm. He reaches for his sword. Fleet of foot, I jab the burning hot candle into one of his eyes.

Edelgard follows my lead. Emerging from behind the door, she clamps a hand over his mouth to prevent him from screaming. She plunges the sharp of my knife into the side of his neck. She retracts and stabs again. A third time. Four. Blood spurts over the both of us. Before long, the eyes of our victim close. He becomes limp - a dead weight. We work together to drag his hefty body into the corner.

Done with the gruesome deed, I pick up my coat (freshly stained red) while Edelgard collects the keys.

I offer up my garment - a small gesture if nothing else. "Here. It might be a bit large, but you can wear it if you'd like."

"That would be most appreciated. I tire of being dressed like this..."

Being nice, I drape it over her shoulders. Taking the lead, I step out into the hallway.

Edelgard follows, locking the door behind her and tossing the keys.

Ahead of us waits a single narrow passageway. It leads to a cobweb-laden door.

"I'll stay in front," I declare. "Your safety's important."

"No... I must insist you remain behind me, Rolan. It's a leader's duty to safeguard her subordinates." The princess strolls ahead. Looking over her shoulder, she gestures for me to follow. "Come, let us leave this place. Quickly. Before more trouble rears its head."

I stick close to Edelgard. My stomach flutters at the sight of of her bravery.

"As you wish, Milady."

"I already told you - no titles. You may call me by my first name."

"Afraid I can't from here. Sorry."

"And why not?" Edelgard huffs, grabbing me by the hand as we reach the door at the end of the hall.

"Just because." I bow my head in a showing of respect and place a tiny kiss against the back of Edelgard's grubby hand. "It'd be impolite."

After today, I see my house leader in a whole new light. She's forthright. She's fearless. She's beautiful.

And above all else, she's worthy of my time.

Edelgard's expression has changed since I awoke. She appears far less her usual guarded self.

"Something amiss?" I ask.

"Nothing of the sort. I am merely comforted to know you're loyal of heart."

"What can I say? I'm swayed by actions far more than words."

"In that regard we are much the same, Rolan."

Together we step through the door before us - into the unknown.

I'll do all I can to aid our escape of this place.

On my life, I swear it.

**To be continued...**

* * *


	10. Vulnerability

"Look at the size of this place..." gasps Edelgard.

Myself and the princess enter a dining hall with a high cieling; the door squeaks closed behind us. The air in here is thick and musty; a chore on the chest.

Thankfully we're alone in here - for now. A blessing which sees my noble comrade sheathe the knife she carries and pass it over, the tension in her shoulders easing a fraction. "Keep it close," she advises. "There might be more."

"Don't need to tell me twice." Tasked with the responsibility of safeguarding our only weapon, I buckle its sheathe to my hip.

A single huge table spans from the doorway where we stand to the other end of the chamber. A sparse smattering of candles atop its length provide much-needed light. Chairs line the table's sides, with a narrow gangways left open to provide safe passage.

"Sure is spacious." A quick sweep of my finger over the tablecloth brings away a thick layer of dust. The placemats and cutlery are equally grubby. "Dirty as all hell though. When did it last see a duster? It's gotta have been a while." Even Hilda's notoriously messy bedroom never became this dust-laden.

"Likely a _very_ long time," Edelgard agrees, moving ahead. "All the more reason we investigate," she urges, waving me over. "Quickly, while the coast is clear."

Cautious of her safety, I remain close. "By your side, My Lady."

Three stained glass windows at the far end of the room depict saintly figures. The central window shows Goddess Sothis in adorned in elegant white robes (a woman I'm familiar with thanks to the church library) though I'm totally unacquainted with revered individuals in the windows to her left and right. A sage-like follow with a bald head, and a regal knight brandishing a huge shield. Very fitting for the zealous individuals who locked us in here.

Wooden crates stacked at the table's right-hand side stop further traversal, while two hulking suits of armour platemail block passage over on the left. A crude but effective method to pen us in. There's a hefty iron door beyond the improvised barricades; barred shut and blocked off with an oaken cabinet.

"Dammit," Edelgard mutters.

"We could climb on the table," I suggest. "Nothing's stopping us."

"I wouldn't recommend we do that. It will cause noise. As would shifting the armour. The risk is too great."

"Then we crawl underneath instead."

"A good idea," Edelgard kneels and lifts the tablecloth. "...No," she sighs. "Perhaps not. It's too dark."

"I'll help. Hold on." I collect a candlestick and hold it toward the unknown void. The underside of the table is cramped and dusty; a pair of bloodied bear traps await our escape attempt. Their teeth are razor sharp, daring us to delve within.

A bitter laugh and a roll of the eyes on my part. "Between this and the boxes, someone would prefer we stay put."

Edelgard massages her forehead with her thumb and forefinger, groaning with great annoyance. "...I concur. But this won't stop me. I'm a von Hresvelg. We do not roll over and accept defeat... under any circumstances."

Invigorated by her determination, I pat the noble lassie on the shoulder. "That's the spirit, milady. We'll keep looking."

"Right."

Edelgard points past me. "Over there." I trace her line of sight. Two tall cobweb-covered bookcases are propped against the left side wall across from us - a large gap between them. "Can you check the books, Rolan? While it won't aid our leaving, I would hope there's a useful journal or tome within."

"To find out where we are, at least?"

"Correct," she nods, brushing past and returning the way we came. There are a pair of wooden draws beside the doorway we first emerged from. "In the meantime, I'll look for anything of use over here. You never know," she finishes, her lips rising into a tired smile.

"Of course," I answer, bowing my head. "I'll have a look."

Walking around the table, I stop before the bookcase. I set down the candlestick on the table behind me. Blowing off the dust kicks a plume right into my face. Caught unaware, I shift a hasty hand over my mouth and cough into my palm.

"Did you find anything?" Edelgard pauses her search and peers over, alerted by the noise.

"No," I rasp, my throat horse and irritated. "...But this place needs a sweep." Wafting the air clean, I get to reading.

Skimming the book spines paints a very clear picture. Most top shelf tomes discuss faith and warfare. Several volumes in particular reference chapters in the Church of Seiros' history; including military campaigns and the like. Professor Byleth taught us about these in class. I remember her having a great deal of fun reading them. It was as much a learning experience for her as it was us; and a happy memory of my time as a Golden Deer.

The next row down (and the one underneath) contain texts on Adrestia's historical events. Most of these I've never heard of. Some drone on in fancy wording about uprisings and unrest, while others give details on laws and customs. An interesting read, surely, but nothing helpful right now.

Three shelves have been checked and two remain. And that's when I see a book which feels out of place. "What do we have here?"

Interested, I remove it from its cubby corner.

Every book I've seen so far has been heavy; bound in fancy brown leather with titles and dates etched into the spines or covers. This book is different; smaller for starters. The front lacks a title and is tattered, close to falling off. Flicking through its washed-out pages shows scruffy handwriting and blotchy stains. Many parts can't be read on account of being so messy. A diary, I'll guess.

A handful of pages (far further in) can be read without issue.

I lean up against the bookcase, using my finger as a guide to follow the lines.

' _We took the Hresvelg girl. Her protectors didn't put up much of a fight; there wasn't time. I sold her clothes and trinkets. They amounted to a nice handful of coin - the proceeds will be donated to the Western Church coffers. Sir Gregory came by earlier, carrying a young man about Hresvelg's age over his shoulder. Said we should lock him up too, interrogate him. I put him in the store room, beside her. I'll sell his clothes and belongings in the morning. The knife should be worth a pretty penny. Until Sir Gregory returns my orders are to watch them. Not that they'll escape. The only route of escape is through a secret door behind the left-hand bookcase in the dining room - even if they somehow get loose. Every other route is locked or rigged with traps.'_

Answer provided, I re-join Edelgard. "I found it." She's busy rooting through draws.

"...An old book?" the princess raises a brow, distracted from her quest for worthwhile items.

I reopen the diary to the correct page and place it into her hands. "Yes. It belonged to the guard who watched us."

Edelgard's eyes blaze over the page in a hurry. "...A secret passage." Reinvigorated, she aims her sights upon the bookcase. Leading the way, she hurries on over. It doesn't take long for her to start pulling out books, glancing at their contents and piling them up. "Rolan," she continues commandingly, drawing me to her side with a sharp finger snap, "this shelf does not appear nailed down. I'll empty the books while you move them."

"Not just yet; safety takes priority." I lean against shelf, using my weight to hold it steady. "We wouldn't want it to topple."

"A keen observation." Edelgard continues unloading books and stacking them beside the suits of armour. "Thank you."

The books are soon removed. We work as a team to relocate them across the room and out of our direct path. "Done," I pause against a dining chair for a quick rest. Our first is task complete; a tall stack of books sits behind the dinner table. "Next comes the shelf." I roll up my sleeves. "Looks heavy."

"I'm sure we'll manage." Edelgard's positions herself to the right of the bookcase.

Ready, I take up my place at the left. "Have you done this before, My Lady? Manual work."

No reply at first. Edelgard appears a bit unsteady, nervous even. "Very little until I enrolled at Garreg Mach," she replies - quite matter of fact. "It's uncommon for Adrestian nobles to entertain physical labour. Outside of combat training, of course."

Thankfully I'm no stranger to hard jobs. Waking at dawn to kneed bread and haul bags of flour saw to that. "I imagined as much," I answer with a chuckle, earning a small frown from my companion. "Lift with your legs, not your back, and you'll be fine. At the count of three, alright?"

"Very well," nods Edelgard, bending her knees a fraction. "On your word."

"Three... two... one... go!"

With a united heave and all-important cooperation, we succeed in shifting the bookcase. My heart is left pounding afterward, but Edelgard is nearly unphased. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she pumps a victorious fist. "Good work."

"You're strong, milady. Very strong..." I present her a thumbs up, smiling exhaustedly. My body is heavy with fatigue.

"One must persevere to reach their goals," Edelgard tells me with strength and pride. "A lesson soon learned as a daughter of royalty."

Propped against the wall, I take a well-deserved breath. "I gathered." Righting myself, I shake my head clear. "Let's go then."

A door waits where the bookshelf once was - just as the diary said. Its face is varnished black and its handle made of weathered bronze. Upon closer inspection there is an insignia not unlike that belonging to the Church of Seiros on its front.

"I'll lead." Edelgard grabs for the handle, eager as ever to take command. "Stay close, would you?" It could be my imagination, but I swear her cheeks are a bit pink - flushed even. "Actually, Rolan... may we pause? Just for a moment...?"

"Is everything alright?"

"Fine. Just fine. But I'd prefer you remain behind me; in truth. So I might safeguard you. I do not wish to see a friend in danger."

The admission throws me off guard. There's a flutter in my chest, if only for a second. "You want to be friends?"

"I had hoped so..." Edelgard sounds reserved but hopeful. I'd go so far as calling her gentle. "...Considering our situation."

I wouldn't have thought Adrestia's future empress a compassionate sort. Before joining the Black Eagles she had an aloofness about her - an invisible wall which kept people (aside her classmates) at a distance. At least, that's how it felt. What I've seen while captive is surprising. When taken from her duties she's a different person in lots of ways. I'm a little nervous as to her reasons. "Is this an order as house leader?"

"A request. From a woman who keeps the company of few friends..." There's a hint of pain in Edelgard's voice. Releasing the handle and stepping back from door, she extends a hand for me to grasp. "...I struggle to trust those around me. But you've proven worthy, by helping in my time of need. So I must know before we travel any further. Is your wilfulness to support me a facade?" She looks me dead in the eye, her cheeks a dark crimson. "...Or is it genuine?"

"It's real," I answer plainly, free of doubts. I meet my eyes with hers to prove the point. "This is who I am. I'll help anyone - so long as there's something about them I like." I take the hand offered, joining her fingers with mine. "And you have a really powerful aura."

"An aura?" Edelgard squeezes my digits with affection. A surprisingly earnest showing. "Me?"

"Darn right. A special something; charisma. It makes you respectable, and pretty damn scary." If she desires my friendship I'd better air my grievances also. "If anything I've worried about your motives; the powerful folks usually trod on us commoners." I take a step nearer. Where I expect Edelgard to recoil she shivers at our closeness. "...Can I trust you, Your Highness?"

"So long as you're loyal," Edelgard whispers in a subdued manner. "Remain loyal and I will treat you with care and respect, always." Coming to her senses, she snatches her hand and retreats. "F-Forgive me... Being isolated and alone makes me feel...dismayed. I usually have guards nearby, or Hubert." Turning from me, she grabs for the door handle again, exhaling to soothe her shaken nerves. "A lapse in composure. Nothing more."

A lapse I found lovely, though I'll not admit it. "A lapse. Of course." I smile weakly. "Let's be off then. Lead the way, My Lady."

"R-Right." Edelgard pulls wide the unknown door. I fall in behind her.

A single lantern atop a wooden side table grants just enough light to cut through the murk. We're faced with what appears to be a cramped pantry; the stink of damp and mould are almost eye-watering. Soaking wet sacks labelled 'flour' are stacked up against a blackened rear wall, beside loose piles of bruised; worm-ridden red applies.

"Over there," points Edelgard. To the left of the flour stacks is a bolted window shutter.

"Finally." Relief washes over me. "Let's get outta here."

Edelgard forges onward while I close the pantry door. When I return she's sliding the bolt loose and releasing the shutter latch; there's a calm breeze once the window is open. The beginnings of a sunrise greet us on the horizon, and a two story barn constructed of wood can be seen off in the distance. Best of all, we're at ground level. There's no issue of heights or falling to consider.

"I'll check we're clear," Edelgard begins, lifting a leg onto the windowsill. I avert my eyes out of respect for her lack of undergarments. "Follow my lead."

I climb through the window once Edelgard is through. A fine enough escape point, though I would've preferred to use the door.

Freed at last from our trappings, we crouch low and carefully sneak further from the building using the tall grass as cover. The further we get the more obvious it becomes that our prison was a small ministerial building. I'm not a man of faith, true. But I know a church when I see one. There don't appear to be any more guards on patrol, either. Clearly that damned Gregory didn't want to advertise suspicion by posting large numbers of soldiers.

Gaining distance (and the rising sun) reveals more in the way of surroundings. There's pastureland with cows to the west of us. A long road forks from their enclosure to a clustered collection of houses. At least six of them; smoke rises from their chimney stacks. We're not in the middle of nowhere at least. I'll accept small blessings given recent events. Anything is better than being lost in the wilderness.

Pausing, Edelgard sees fit to talk after a long while of silence. "We must weigh our options." She looks ahead to the now not so distant barn. "Do we hide for a while, or carefully enter the village in hopes of finding help?"

Something tells me keeping quiet and out of sight is a good idea.

"The barn. We can't be sure if these people are connected to the Western Church or simple townsfolk."

"A fair deduction." Edelgard rises from the grass. I'm taken aback for a moment. Dawn's fragile rays bathe her in a most gorgeous glow; her ivory skin shimmers. She's outstanding to behold, even when adorned in rags. "What is it...?" she asks cautiously, having noticed my less than subtle admiration. "Is there something wrong?" Buttoning my borrowed and bloodstained jacket, she shyly hides her eyes from mine. "...Do speak up, Rolan."

My heartbeat pounds unexpectedly, while a jitter claims my stomach. "No, you're fine milady. I-It's better we get moving." The corners of my mouth lift into a glassy smile. I'm not one for honeyed words and scoundrels charm. Focused instead on the barn, I walk onward with spirit.

Despite my efforts to get ahead, Edelgard matches my pace with ease. She's at my back; her breathing signals how near she is.

Frustrated by my flighty affections, I ball my hand into a fist. And release. Ball. Release. Ball. Release.

And still my heart races. Races in ways it shouldn't. Races for a woman whom I wish it wouldn't.

The cold distrust I grasped so tightly has melted; replaced by respect and admiration. My haunting fear of unknown intentions has lifted like a thin morning fog. Where I want to keep my distance, I cannot. I feel safe so long as Edelgard is near me. Protected and secure. Our current danger is my motivator. It needs to be; it has to be. To find appeal in a princess for any other reason is stupid. Nothing good will come of it.

* * *

A barn is the last place I would hide under normal circumstances. But unusual happenings make for equally unusual comforts. Edelgard took it upon herself to climb a flimsy wooden ladder and huddle into the loft space's furthest secluded corner. Tucked behind a hay bale and a trunk of old farming tools, she'll be hard to spot at a bat of the eye. Even if somebody finds her, no farmhand will believe she's of noble origins while dressed in rags and a ruined jacket.

Sitting next to her, I rest my hands in my lap.

There's silence between us for a long time. I welcome it.

Between lugging a bookcase and the adrenaline birthed by overpowering a six foot tall knight, I'm spent. An unwilling yawn falls tumbles from my mouth. I'll deal with what I have - a warm bed or the privacy of a locked door be damned. My eyes close; I can't fight the urge to rest any longer.

There's shuffling off to my right. Edelgard lulls her head against my shoulder, causing me to open an eye out of surprise. "Permit me to share your warmth," she speaks softly, an element of sincerity present in her request. "What I'm wearing is far from comfortable."

There's no way I can let her shiver in those god-awful scraps.

Driven by kindness, and my heart athunder all the while, I wrap an arm around Edelgard's slender middle and hug my body to hers.

I feel her shiver against me, a grateful sigh following. "My thanks."

"Anytime, Princess. Anytime."

Edelgard clutches my shirt, nestling into the nape of my neck, snuggling nearer until she's halfway sitting in my lap. Far nearer than I can handle.

Her body is trembling. So is mine. Despite my best efforts, I've gone from half-asleep to wide awake in a second flat.

Overpowered and at her mercy, Edelgard's rapid breaths cause my head to spin.

"I've never felt so vulnerable... until today." Her confession is quiet but alluringly laced. "It's disgusting... And yet, I enjoy it. _Needing someone_."

A sentiment I understand. I'm the worlds worst for struggling with problems even when they're beyond my ability to handle. But somehow I know that isn't what Edelgard means. Her tone of voice is buttery smooth; similar to Dorothea's when she sneaks into my dormitory after dark.

I open my eyes to find the future empress staring into me - her two pools of crystal blue submerging my will. She raps desperately; beads of sweat slither down her forehead. Crawling into my lap, she leans nearer and nearer, our noses touching. She grabs for the collar of my shirt, her lips brushing against mine.

"Rolan," she utters, her voice a hauntingly blissful echo. "I'll never be allowed to feel this way again. Not once we return to Garreg Mach..."

"Normal I'm guessing? Like the rest of us?" I coil my arms around Edelgard's shoulders. She purrs at my fingertips stroking her skin. "No guards... No duties."

"Yes..." she confesses, "It's liberating... but also frightening."

Overtaken by passion, I see clearly at last. "Then allow me to protect you."

"Don't let go of me," she whispers into my ear. "Please..."

I do not love Edelgard von Hresvelg; my longing is different. I'm attracted to her power, her persona.

And while I want to hate her royal standing, I can only admire her, dote upon her orders, and lust after her radiance.

I'm a Black Eagle - now more than ever. And my house leader has made a request of me. A request I cannot refuse.

"As you wish."

Edelgard presses her lips to mine - an offering I accept gladly - for it will only come once in my lifetime.

Slipping my outstretched palms beneath her tattered clothing, I sink my nails into the clammy skin of her back, moaning into her, indulging upon all she is.

True to my word, I'll do everything I can to ensure her safety. And more. We'll uncover a road to Garreg Mach together... after some much needed respite.

**To be continued...**


	11. Innocence

wice now farmers have passed by the barn, putting me on edge.

Indulgence might be a bad idea, given where we are. The world is no longer as simple as I once envisioned it.

Pained greatly by the situation we find ourselves in, I crumble. "This is all happening too fast."

I retreat from Edelgard, unsure of myself.

Seconds drag with painful slowness. My mind races where I pray for peace.

"Such is the way of Fodlan lately, Rolan," Edelgard says bluntly, closing our gap. "But you need not surrender to fear. I'm here with you."

"It's not that easy for me," I whisper; defeated. "Everything I believed true is being thrown to the damn wind. Rhea can't be trusted; the church abduct people... and there's a religious war afoot. I don't know what to believe." I hold my head in my hands, exhausted beyond compare.

"Rolan..." Edelgard grabs my biceps and shakes me. "You must regain your composure."

"You make it sound simple." Her words fail to shine through my inner-clouds. "All I know is that I want to protect you."

I'm shoved to the floor, my wrists seized roughly. Edelgard glares. "And you will, I'm sure. So long as we're together we shall make it through this."

"And what do you propose we-"

I'm slapped in the face, ripped headlong from my woes. My head swirls. Shaking myself clear, I regain my senses. I needed that.

"Look at me," Edelgard rasps. Her voice laced with allure, she leans nearer. Her eyes of ocean blue plead for release. "Trust in me; I'll ease your fears."

Held to the floor and my shirt's buttons torn wide, I shudder. Her pledge is comforting.

A princess; a woman of nobility, and she seeks my closeness of all people.

"You mean it, right? You'll watch out for me?" I ask.

"You have my word and my oath, as a noble of Adrestia," Edelgard confirms, pressing her lips to mine with heat.

Fingers sliding over the clammy curves of her hips, I deepen our kiss. I'll not refuse her offering.

It's impossible to resist a highborn's awe-inspiring radiance; not to mention her wonderfully smooth ivory skin.

Once she draws back I smile for her. "Alright. I'll take a chance on you, Princess."

I go on the offensive and slam my lips against Edelgard's: I'm rewarded with a gentle moan for my efforts. Our embrace erupts into a flashfire; becoming furious and laced with lust; a clash the likes of which I'm unwilling to loose. Aching to indulge, I meet passion with passion in return.

One kiss turns to two. Two to three. A duel the likes of which neither of us are prepared to concede.

Sweaty palms pressed to my chest, Edelgard pushes me against the creaky wooden boards. Empowered and full to the brim with regal fire; her tongue assails my mouth, knotting us as one. Her taste; her touch - everything about her is overwhelming. It's as though I'm melting; being reshaped at her will.

Second by second I feel the shackles of restraint coming loose. Parched of the sweetened honey I so desperately hunger for, my fingernails scratch down Edelgard's back until reaching her rounded backside, my palms opening and cupping her flesh by the handful.

Edelgard tears her lips from mine; her gaze cloudy with gluttonous yearnings. Her every laboured breath is hefty and thick with tension. She stares into me with want; alive with the most sinful of intentions. "Rolan..." she utters near silently, her entire body wracked by an almighty shiver, "...I've no wish to stop."

Thankfully for the two of us, neither do I.

A shaky exhale taken through my nose, I lift my back and lean nearer to the nape of Edelgard's neck. Intent on pleasing her above all else, I prepare to strike. "Seems we're of the same mind, Your Highness." Declaration of war delivered, I pinch her collarbone between my teeth.

Edelgard throws back her head of messy white hair.

I bite down harder in reply. In the deepest pits of her soul I want to leave my mark. If this moment we share is to be fleeting, I want every instant to count as though my life depends on it. Edelgard von Hresvelg is a woman worthy of respect; of admiration.

"R-Rolan..."

I'm left light-headed by the red-hot desperation to Edelgard's tone.

The last bindings of my restraint slip away, taking me past the point of no return.

Though I'm given little chance to act upon it.

My back again thumps against the wooden floor. The next thing I know I'm trapped beneath Adrestia's future ruler. Her hands clamped tightly around my wrists a second time, she's heaving; a ravenous and hungry wolf on the prowl. I'm her pray; a morsel fit to devour.

"Please..." she speaks with desperation; betraying her invigorated exterior, "Do not toy with me like this any longer." Her legs trembling, she wiggles her bottom in a manner most unladylike. "...I need relief." Freeing me from her grip, Edelgard's right hand finds its way to the belt of my trousers. Her eyes fixate upon mine: they're trembling with sincerity. "Will you help me?"

In an instant flat, my inner fires are doused. Confidence gives way to uncertainty. I'm... discontent.

She's assured - powerful. I hightly doubt she's still pure like me.

Fearful of what's to come, I avert my gaze. "I might let you down, My Lady." A weighty breath calming me, I close my eyes. "I've not gone all the way; contrary to what you might expect of me... even with Dorothea."

I feel tiny and ashamed where just moments prior I felt powerful as all hell.

Edelgard touches my cheek; gently turning my head. "Do not hide from me..."

Soothed by the motion, I find it in me to look at Edelgard.

Her eyes are calming; tinged with softness and heartfelt longing. Like the lakeside at Garreg Mach at sunrise, she draws me closer and closer. I want to lose myself; surrender all I am without hesitation. I'm under her complete control.

Where I'm wracked with worry, Edelgard doesn't appear at all shaken.

"...I want to trust you, Rolan. Like I trusted the professor; before Rhea ensnared her with lies and falsehoods." Inching nearer and nearer, Edelgard plants a short but powerful kiss to my lips. Drawing back just an inch, she keeps her focus squarely upon me. I'm lost to her ocean-like expanse; unable to resist. "I've long wished to know what it is like to join with somebody totally and completely; just this once."

The sincerity of her request is as though a hand reaching into my chest and grasping my heart. Unbarred and unguarded, I see Edelgard in a whole new way; the truth behind the empress-in-waiting. She is a woman of immense strength, but with no outlet for the stresses and fears of carrying a nation's future on her shoulders. There are hardly any she can trust, and even fewer she can depend upon.

Edelgard von Hresvelg is truly alone.

It must have taken a great deal of courage for her to place her trust in me; to lower her guard.

I can't bring myself to reject her. It would wound her in ways I don't dare imagine.

"It would be my pleasure, Edelgard..." Before I commit myself, I must be certain of something. "But what of Dorothea?"

The Adrestian girl smiles softly. "You needn't fret. What we share this day will remain a secret upon our return to Garreg Mach. It must - for the sake of my future as ruler of Adrestia, and yours... as my subordinate."

My conscience is clear if that is truly the case. Afraid no longer, I lean close and kiss Edelgard's forehead. "Alright then. I've no reason to object." Earlier vigor returning, I grant a consenting nod. "Let's enjoy the time we have."

Permission granted, Edelgard releases my belt buckle and shuffles back on her knees. Freed from confines, my manly weapon bulges against the fabric of my shorts. Lifting my hips, I lower them a fraction, revealing all I am.

Edelgard's face reddens a touch. A shy smile curving her lips, she lifts away the ragged sack-cloth garment and tosses it aside. Lowering onto all fours, the white-haired lass crawls to me - a cat on the prowl. "Close your eyes," she instructs. "I won't hurt you; you have my word."

I do as requested. With each passing second my heartbeat quickens; a drum beat within my skull. I feel Edelgard atop of me; her breaths tickle my neck. In... And out. In... And out. I'm burning red-hot; again losing control of myself - submerged in the will of another.

Edelgard's fingers slide over the tip of my manhood, causing me a stiff groan. Biting my lip, I swallow the urge to cry out in blissful delight. "Larger than I expected..." Edelgard says with allure. "But not unwelcome." A short, mischievous chuckle. Lowering herself a fraction, the tip of my spear pokes against Edelgard's slick, womanly flesh. "Y-You can open them; your eyes. _Look at me_..."

What I find upon obliging her request has my skin prickle with desire.

Cupping me tightly in her grasp, she appears about ready to allow me inside.

Her expression shifts, portraying an ounce of caution. "Do be kind to me... I've not done this before, either."

"Y-You haven't?" my voice cracks amidst the surprise.

"No." Edelgard shakes her head.

"But you're so confident - in control."

The future empress blushes; a gentle flower. "A noblewoman's facade," she confesses at a whisper. "I'm ill-experienced with matters of this magnitude. I've read lots of books in Enbarr's palace Library telling tales of love... _and lust_. Nothing more."

A cooling tidal wave, relief washes over me. I exhale gladly, "Thank goodness for that. We're both the same."

"I'm a virgin also, yes," Edelgard reveals. "But I won't object... I'd like to cherish the experience; with someone I have faith in."

Armed with knowledge of Edelgard's innocence, I feel the need to conduct myself with a little more caution.

A reality check is sorely needed before we go too far. "You're sure about this? _With me?"_

"I would not have it any other way," Edelgard replies straightforwardly. "You have proven yourself worthy; so you need not feel distressed, Rolan."

"I-I want to, Edelgard. I'm just nervous... that's all."

"Why hesitate? If you want something you've the means to claim, you should not shy away."

In the short time spent with this woman my expectations continue to shift.

I'm allowing myself too close to her. A truth she deserves to hear.

"Out of respect for you."

"Respect... for me?"

"Right," I nod." If we do this, there's no taking it back; and I'm not strong-willed like you." Eyeing Edelgard with all the dedication I can muster, I move one of my hands and touch her arm with tenderness. "I'm flighty as all heck; my Pop made realize it on his recent visit to Garreg Mach. You're an admirable sort, Edelgard. If we take a tumble... I worry I'll fall for you. Like I said, you've plenty of charisma. And I'm drawn to women with charisma."

Case in point, Dorothea. Petra, also. The Brigid-born royal sure isn't without her share of spirit.

"Y-You might fall in love...?" Edelgard's voice trembles at my explanation. A hand raised to her chest, she inhales and exhales deeply; her body shaking. The level-headed ruler-to-be has taken her leave: replaced by a demure and soft-spoken maiden. "Few are ever forthright toward me. I don't know what to say."

"Just being honest; something my old man said I could do to work on."

"Do you mean it?" Edelgard looks to me from the corner of her eye. "You could truly love me?"

"Wouldn't put it past myself - which is why I asked."

Edelgard's eyes quiver with feeling. "Then you've nothing to fear. I'm not opposed to you harbouring feelings toward me if they're genuine." In truth..." She leans in and kisses my lips, her chest pressed to mine in a heated embrace. Upon parting she smiles sadly. "I am somewhat jealous of many at Garreg Mach: those with lovers and people who cherish them. I've never had such a luxury."

"Because you've always been guarded," I comment. An observation. "An heiress in her ivory tower."

"Correct," Edelgard nods, a lonesome tear rolling down her cheek. "So please, do not hesitate. I want this: I want you. I beg you... do not refuse me."

Behind the rigid face of a ruler Edelgard is really quite demure and sentimental.

"It'd be my pleasure." With a thundering heart I prepare: my body trembles with anticipation. "I'm ready, Edelgard."

"As am I," she replies, her cheeks flushed pink.

Any who wish to lay a finger upon my mistress (a gentle and kind soul behind her steely persona) will have to go through me. I won't hesitate any longer. I won't repeat the same mistakes hoping to break new ground. I know now who I am and where I belong. The Church of Seiros can't be trusted. Not Western Church... and I'm uneasy about Rhea as well. Everything I knew is being reshaped around me, but I won't shy away.

An instant. An unforgettable moment; forever frozen in time. Biting her lip, Edelgard eases down upon me. There follows a sharp twinge of pain as I breach her womanly barriers - melded with an immense heat as we become one. I feel her; the princess, her every twitch squeezing my aching weapon.

Head thrown back; I groan with delight. "Oh God..." I'm being constricted in a vice-like grip of bittersweet passion.

Edelgard presses her pelvis to mine, allowing me as deeply as she's able with gentle moan. Her breasts heave with every breath she takes. Her eyes misted with lust's carmine hue, she gazes into the depths of my soul with intensity, her teeth nipping down harder upon the corner of her lip.

"R-Rolan," she sighs, beads of sweat trickling down her forehead and over her heaving chest. "Is it alright?"

"Little sore," I grunt, breathing outward to steady myself. "Tighter than I expected."

"I'm going to move now." Nails sinking into my chest to anchor herself in place, Edelgard licks a fleck of drool from the corner of her mouth. "Is that okay?"

"...Go for it." There's no turning back. My innocence conquered, I surrender to her whims. "But take it steady."

"Slowly, you mean? Of course..."

Permission granted, Edelgard jerks her hips and sends sparks raging through my mind.

Again.

And again.

And again.

The air stolen from my lungs, I paw at the glistening skin of Edelgard's back. Leaning closer, I press lips to mine in a scorching kiss; her every movement bringing me nearer to release in a manner both new and truly outstanding. From this day onward I'm an Adrestian in more ways than one.

I'm pure no longer, and I don't regret Edelgard being the one to tarnish me.

* * *

Nightfall.

I found a pair of old patched up farmers overalls after searching the barn high and low.

While far from pretty or clean, they're a damn sight better than the rags Edelgard wore when I awoke beside her. At least she'll be warm and covered up, if nothing else. To stave off the nip of the evening air we're huddled up behind a bail of hay toward the back of the barn; not too far from a disused chicken coop. My guess is the farmers use this place for storage more than anything, cuz I've not seen a single animal in here: Not a cow or pig nor chicken.

What's more, a group of villagers brought a trader's wagon in here for safekeeping until sunup. I Overheard them talking about a merchant girl staying in the village tavern until she sets off in the morning. We're going to hide among her trade goods in the back and see where she ends up.

Anywhere is better than here.

Edelgard stirs, cuddling me tightly. "...Can't sleep?"

"No," I answer in a low voice. "Too much on my mind."

"About what happened earlier?" Edelgard asks, her tone gentle and affectionate. "I hope it was as nice for you as it was me."

I open my eyes. With the sunlight gone it's pitch dark in here, through Edelgard's breaths tickle my face; a sign she's close. "No complaints," I reply.

The future empress holds onto me just that little bit more intently, planting her lips against my neck in clumsy appreciation. "I should hope not."

A fleeting moment. A secret shared between ourselves. It's almost sad. It'll all be forgotten if we safely return to Garreg Mach.

Edelgard chuckles nervously. "...Thank you, for being such a gentleman toward me."

"Of course. I wasn't going to be rough with you. It was a first for us both."

"I'm not referring to _that_ , Rolan. Our time in captivity, I mean. You've safeguarded me; been kind. It means a lot to me."

"Just doing my duty, Princess. I swore an oath to you as a Black Eagle. I'm gonna keep it."

"Duty..." Edelgard sighs, sounding almost dejected. "Of course..."

* * *

The following morning.

Hour after hour travelling on a bumpy road has my stomach tied in knots. If we carry on like this I'm going to be sick.

Bump. The clatter of hooves. Bump. Hooves.

Over. And over. And over.

"Rolan," whispers Edelgard. "You must endure. If we're heard we'll be caught."

My head is swirling in circles like I'm a sailor at sea; my stomach clenches.

Seiros help me... I can't hold out much longer.

Much to my relief, the cart suddenly pulls to a stop.

"Easy there, girls. I think we have some excess weight." The voice of the cart driver... I remember it.

Edelgard reaches for the bloodied knife in the pocket of her overalls. A shake of my head brings her to pause.

"Don't."

"And why not?" she questions in a low tone, the cart's driver disembarking.

My stomach eases as memories surge.

"Because I know her..."

An old friend of the family, and much beloved by my sister. A relationship held in secret, and sadly cut short.

Arriving around the back of the cart, the girl and I are reunited.

A tall and curvaceous long-haired redhead with wide a face; a pale but flawless complexion, and strong brown eyes.

Eyes that widen upon meeting mine. "...Rolan!"

The merchant girl's features form a welcoming and equally puzzled smile. "...What are you doing in there?! And with a young lady, too?"

"Morning, Anna..." Shuffling around a box, I swing my legs over the edge of the cart and climb out. Edelgard follows.

"Don't 'Morning, Anna' me! Last I'd heard from Emma you were attending Garreg Mach, and now you're on the roads between Vella!" I'm pulled into an embrace. Anna squeezes me tight, almost suffocating me. A greeting I could never escape when she courted my sister. Upon drawing back and releasing me, her eyes fall upon Edelgard. She blinks. Once. Twice. Three times. Her jaw hangs loose for many a moment.

"...Is that who I think it is?" she finally speaks, astonished.

Edelgard bows. "A good morning to you, Miss Anna. Yes... My name is Edelgard von Hresvelg. I believe your company once did business with my uncle."

"Adrestia's royal highness!" Anna blurts out, shocked and awe-struck. Again she looks to me, and back to Edelgard. A cycle she repeats many times over, making herself dizzy in the process. Her legs wobbling, I reach out to grab her before she can stumble. "What is going on here?!" she demands to know.

"...It's a really long story," I reply with a nervous smirk. "Fancy giving us a lift to Garreg Mach? Gotta get the princess to safety."

A deep grumble from Anna. "It's a Three day ride westward, past the trading outpost I planned to visit." Her eyes narrow to a stare. "It'll cost you."

Alas, my plans are bested. I turn out my empty pockets. "Kinda running short."

Edelgard steps up - the stern expression of a leader present about her. "Money is no object. How does two hundred gold sound?"

"Up front?"

"Payable upon mine and Rolan's safe return to the monastery."

A thumbs up given, Anna grins. "Sold!"

I've never seen her go from annoyed to upbeat so fast in my life. The girl really is attracted to money beyond all else.

Oh well. At least we have a ways home. I'll take what I can get.

"Sit yourselves down in the back; get comfy," Anna tells us. "Our first stop's the Town of Rena, about ten miles north. We'll stay there for the night."

Doing as asked, Edelgard and I climb aboard while Anna returns up front.

With a smack of the reins the horses are off, the cart's wheels spinning.

A long road awaits. A bumpy one. But I'm not alone, at the least.

Glancing over to Edelgard, I offer her a hand.

She accepts my gesture gladly, her cheeks darkening to a gentle crimson shade. "You'll stay beside me until we return to Garreg Mach, won't you?"

I join our fingers. "Wherever you go, I'll follow, Edelgard."

"Good. I'm counting on your protection, Rolan."

**To be continued...**


End file.
